


Something Great

by infinitelymint



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (I feel like that's an ambiguous tag but to clarify there are no horses in this fic sadly), (no really I'm serious), (that's an actual tag something's right with this world), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Coming Out, Drama Student Louis, Famous Harry, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, I'm Sorry, I'm sorry these tags are shit I'm gonna stop now, Instagram hipster Harry, M/M, Non-Famous Louis, Piano Sex, Riding, SO, Smut, Something Great, aaaaaaalright, and a piano, for once no angst (who'd have thought I could manage that), hmmmm, impressive communication skills, please read - the fic's better than the tags I promise, starring role to the lilac jumper, these tags are shit, this is a monster of fluff, what else, what else what else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-07 00:56:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6778243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinitelymint/pseuds/infinitelymint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a coincidence, instagram, a party, a piano and a planned coming out all come together to make two people fall in love. As it happens, it turns out to be a rather effective combination. </p><p> </p><p>  <i>or, Louis is a student and Harry is the mega-famous singer that happens to post a photo with Louis in the background. Together they kind of break the internet.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Great

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anchoredlou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anchoredlou/gifts).



> Holla, hey, aloha, hiiii, hej, heya
> 
> Hello, it's me, I've been wondering if after all these years you.... 've forgotten all about me?
> 
> Howdy, friends, it's been a while, eh?
> 
> Here's a bit of fic, hope you enjoy. My writing bone has been broken and it's only just starting to heal, so be gentle, eh? If this isn't quite up to standards, remember that I'm still trying to mend it back together.
> 
> This fic has been more than a year underway, soooo - enjoy?
> 
> Massive thanks to [Amber](http://www.loveloveolivia.tumblr.com), [Alice](http://www.intenselouis.tumblr.com) and [Sheena](http://www.conscious--ramblings.tumblr.com) for reading through this and helping me sort it out, and, of course, for their support and never ending kindness. I've appreciated it and you tremendously <3 THANK YOU are poor words and if you ever need someone to break you out of jail, I'm your gal. I've watched the season finale of Criminal Minds, I'm #ready.
> 
> To my darling [Esther](http://www.anchoredlou.tumblr.com) \- thank you for always being so lovely and encouraging, and thank you for listening to me when I whine over fics that won't do as I want them to. This is yours, as it should be. Very happy very, very late birthday. Love you xx
> 
> OBS - IMPORTANT!! In the beginning of this fic Louis talks about fandom in a very ignorant way, but it purely stems from lack of knowledge and the fact that he's only been exposed to the worst, most invasive sides of fandom at that point in the fic. He knows nothing more than the general public and thus his opinion reflects this rather than my - or his later - view on the brilliance of fandom. Pure ignorance, so please don't be offended. He'll learn ;)
> 
> The fic is inspired by [these tags](http://infinitelymint.tumblr.com/post/104680562290/ambiglouis-anchoredlou-harrystyles-rome), which just so happens to be my own, as you do. http://infinitelymint.tumblr.com/post/104680562290/ambiglouis-anchoredlou-harrystyles-rome

                                [ ](http://imgur.com/MQBnk5P)

 

 _One day you'll come into my world and say it all_  
_You say we'll be together even when you're lost_  
_One day you'll say these words_  
_I've thought but never said_  
_You say we're better off together in our bed_  
  
_I want you here with me_  
_Like how I pictured it_  
_So I don't have to keep imagining_  
  
_Come on, jump out at me_  
_Come on, bring everything_  
_Is it too much to ask for something great?_

 

 

**SOMETHING GREAT**

 

He’d just been on a trip to the park.

It was just a trip to the park with Mrs. Laurel’s dog, it’s not like he’d camped out in front of the hottest celebrity nightclub or something, damn it. Just a trip to the park and now his twitter mentions are going batshit crazy, and Lottie has been alternating between texting him a thousand exclamation points and calling him all evening. He’s yet to pick up, because somehow through the explosion of his twitter, he’s somewhat figured out what has happened.

Harry _bloody_ Styles.

Harry _goddamn_ Styles is what happened. Or, well, _who_ happened. And, well, Martha Cunnings, too, the _hag_. Anyway, as it happens, Louis apparently can’t take a stroll through Hyde Park with his neighbour’s dog without Harry _arsehat_ Styles taking a photo of him. Hrmpf. He’s seen the photo, read the caption, and, really, thanks a lot, Harry Styles. Thanks a bloody fucking lot.

And apparently stupid Martha Cunnings had seen the photo too. Apparently she couldn’t keep her trap shut, but had to make a bloody tumblr post about how the man in Harry’s Instagram photo looked a whole lot like her friend’s older brother. This, of course, meant that it took little time before all those bloody fans of that arsehole-y popstar knew all about Louis’ twitter and instagram, and collectively accepted that he was the one in the photo. Like, fuck, he _was_ , but he didn’t ask for it, didn’t ask for _this_. _Bloody_ Martha Cunnings, he never liked her, always knew she had a too big mouth.

And, anyway, Harry _hare-brain_ Styles isn’t even fucking gay, so Louis hasn’t got a clue  what people are getting their knickers in a twist over.

When his phone rings for umpteenth time, he finally picks up.

“What?” he barks sourly into his phone, though his tone doesn’t seem to have any impact on Lottie.

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew Harry Styles?!” she asks immediately, her voice a mixture of accusatory and awed.

“Because I don’t.” Louis groans, rolling his eyes, because, really, Lottie ought to know that.

“Come on, Lou,” she says, sounding exactly as if she doesn’t believe him, which… urgh. Shouldn’t she automatically believe her own brother over whatever narrative the loonies of Harry Styles’ online fandom have cooked up based on one bloody photo? “You’re in a picture on his Instagram,” she continues, completely ignoring his groan of frustration. “He captioned it ‘beautiful things’, Lou! A picture of a flowerbed and you in the distance that he captioned _‘beautiful things’_!”

“You say that like it means something, Lots.” He sighs, leaning back into the sofa. “I mean, sure it’s a bit creepy that he snuck a photo of me, but like, honestly, he probably didn’t even notice it? I don’t know, Lottie, but anyway, I don’t get what the big deal is, people are trending ‘larry stylinson’, like what even?”

“They’re shipping you guys, Lou,” Lottie explains with the practiced patience of someone talking to a toddler.

“Shipping?” Louis questions, eyebrow metaphorically raised. “Like in a relationship? What… what _even_.” He wonders out loud, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. “Like, sorry, Lots, I know we all know I’m gay as a rainbow, but isn’t Harry Styles like the straightest boy on the entire _planet_?”

“I don’t know, Lou,” Lottie starts slowly, as though she’s considering it herself, “There always was something odd about the girls he was linked with. And there are people in his fandom who’re positive that he’s gay.”

“That sounds crazy, love,” Louis says with a laugh, because, well, Harry Styles is fit and all, but Louis has only ever seen him on the cover of trashy magazines with some leggy blonde draped all over him. So, Harry Styles gay? Yeah, colour him unconvinced, alright.

“Well, there’s these masterposts—“ Lottie starts, but Louis cuts her off quickly, knowing where it’s leading.

“Whoa, whoa,” he says, “I’m gonna stop you right there, sweets. I don’t care. I don’t care about Harry Styles at all. Like, it’s a bit creepy that he’s snapping pictures of random people in the park, but I don’t know him and I never will—except, Lotts, do you think I could sue him for like overflowing my twitter account? For my troubles? I could really use some cash.”

He can almost hear Lottie roll her eyes at him all the way from Doncaster.

“Don’t be an idiot,” she says, “You could just have said that you didn’t know him.”

“I did say that,” Louis points out. “You just didn’t believe me.”

“You’re so annoying,” she states with a long suffering sigh then, though Louis knows she’s not really serious. “You reeeaaallyyy can’t get me meet and greet tickets to his next show in London then?”

“No, Lotts,” he shakes his head even though she can’t actually see it. “I really, really can’t. Buy them yourself.”

“But they’re sold out, Lou,” she whines, “And besides they’re so expensive too, mum could never afford them.”

“Sucks to be you then,” Louis says, aware that he’s perhaps not being too sympathetic, but oh well.

“You’re a dick, I hope you burn your dinner tonight,” she says, and Louis actually has to struggle to keep in his giggles. “Bye, Lou.”

“Bye Lottie,” Louis says with a grin, voice saccharine. “Love you.”

“Urgh,” she says, sounding exasperated. “Love you too.”

They both hang up and Louis chuckles a bit, before sinking properly into the cushions, throwing his phone onto the cushion next to him. Hopefully this thing will die down soon.

 

\--

 

It doesn’t die down soon. In fact, it doesn’t die down at all. If anything, it becomes worse. It’s been a week, and yet Harry’s fans don’t seem to tire of talking about the two of them, don’t seem to tire of trying to predict when they apparently met, where they are now and what exactly they are to each other. They especially, _especially_ don’t seem to get tired of tweeting Louis questions all the _fucking_ time. Louis is caught in this insane media circus that he never even asked for, and he doesn’t even have the luxury of a naked Harry Styles in his bed. Not that he ever would have had that, but if he is to be subjected to something like this, he’d at least prefer that he also got Harry as a part of the package, seems like that would be the only thing that made it worthwhile.

He styles his hair into a quiff, tries not to be annoyed with the world in general, and aware of the fact that he’s kind of already running late. This whole thing has left him in a constantly bad mood, and he kind of bemoans the fact that he doesn’t live in America where apparently you can sue for the tiniest of problems. He’d quite like to give Harry Styles a piece of his mind somehow, but he’s also kind of accepted that any acknowledgement of the whole thing would only be throwing fuel at the fire at this point. It’s better just to wait it out, definitely, but Louis has never been all that good at biting his tongue, so it’s proving to be quite the challenge.

At any rate, he’s supposed to be ready in a few minutes and he’s still got this stubborn strand of hair that doesn’t want to stay put no matter how much gel he applies. It maybe doesn’t help that he’s just all round annoyed by everything right now, his movements sloppy and irritated as even something as trivial as a strand of hair is making him frustrated.

Bloody, stupid Harry Styles.

Zayn is picking him up, having pleaded Louis to come with him because _‘Pezza can’t go, and if I have to sit through an entire night of stick skinny models trying to either get with me or insult me all alone, I might not survive’_. Honestly, having a supermodel for a best friend is such a hassle. So, now Louis is sacrificing his Friday night in front of the TV with a cold slice of pizza for a night out in London with all of England’s prettiest people. It doesn’t sound like nearly as shitty a trade-off as Louis feels it is. Maybe he’s getting old.

He’s not actually supposed to be at the party anyway. It is a party pretty much solely for models after all, but Zayn assured him that no one would notice his presence (thanks a lot…) and that he definitely could go for being a model himself if anyone asked ( _actually_ thanks a lot!).

In the end, he manages to get the strand under control just as Zayn texts him that he’s waiting outside in the car, and Louis hurries to wash the left over gel off his fingers, before grabbing a denim jacket, his wallet, keys and phone, and then hurrying out the door.

 

\--

 

The party is actually pretty great once they get there, and Louis is several free drinks in, well on his way to becoming completely plastered, when he first sees him. Harry Styles, bane of his existence, his nemesis, the Draco Malfoy to his Harry Potter, the Saruman to his Gandalf, Team Rocket to his Ash. Standing at the bar, chatting to some long legged pretty blonde, standing _right there_ , so close to Louis, is Harry Styles. Just Louis’ luck, really.

He ignores it, has no reason to do anything but, really, it’s not like they’re in any way any kind of friends after all, not even acquaintances, and while Louis is carrying quite a huge grudge against Harry, Harry doesn’t technically know about it. Probably hardly even knows that Louis exists. So, it’s really a non-issue. What would he even say to him if he had the chance? ‘Hey, dick, you posted a picture with me in it on your Instagram account and now 12 year old girls are either crying, yelling or threatening my life in my twitter mentions. Thanks a whole damn lot. _Knob_.’ Yeah, that… probably wouldn’t go over too well. Harry’s bodyguards probably outnumbers Louis’ five to… well, none, so.

 _So_ , he stays away, does a couple of shots with Zayn, dances a bit with a couple of pretty models and only looks over at Harry Styles a couple of times. So sue him, Harry _is_ pretty.

It’s not until Zayn decides to go home early, leaving Louis alone at the party, that things change.

 

\--

 

“You’re Harry Styles!” Louis exclaims, words only slightly muddled, as he slumps less than elegantly against the bar counter. He’s perhaps a little bit tipsy. Just a little bit though. Liquid courage and all. “You’ve made my twitter a living nightmare. My whole _life_. You _suck_.”

“Um,” Harry Styles says, fish-mouthing slightly, and Louis can’t really tell in his slightly inebriated state if Harry’s just startled over the apparent lunatic that’s approached him or if he actually recognises Louis. “I’m sorry?” It’s more a question than a statement, and Louis is helplessly endeared. He scowls anyway.

“You better be,” he says, crossing his arms. “Some might even say that you owe me a drink. Or, you know, you could pay off my student loans as payment for the headache _and_ heartache you’ve caused me, I’ll take either.”

Surprisingly, Harry grins at him. “How about we start with the drink, eh? Work our way up to paying off your loans. I feel like I ought to know you a bit better for that.” He signals the bartender and orders something too quickly for Louis’ slow mind to catch. This is too surreal, really, he wouldn’t be surprised if he woke up soon and found out it was all a very lively dream.

“Louis Tomlinson, right?” Harry asks when he returns his attention to Louis, and it takes Louis a couple of seconds to realise that he has yet to introduce himself to Harry. He frowns. “You’re not the only one who’s been spammed with twitter mentions about the two of us,” Harry clarifies with a cheeky grin once he sees the confusion on Louis’ face.

“Well, whose fault is that?” Louis grumbles as he settles into the bar chair next to Harry’s.

“Yours.” Harry grins, dimples stupidly endearing. “There I was, innocently trying to capture the beauty of the park and you creep into the frame.”

“I didn’t know you were taking a photo!” Louis exclaims. “You’re the one who uploaded it, you twat.”

Harry laughs, eyes twinkling and Louis suddenly realises he was joking. Louis is usually able to pick up on when people are pulling his leg and when they aren’t, but a mixture of alcohol and maybe even a tiny bit of being dazzled by Harry clouded his perception, it seems. It’s a little bit surreal that he’s currently having a conversation with Harry after all.

“I know,” Harry says, sobering slightly and offering Louis a timid smile. “If it’s any consolation, I hadn’t really noticed you when I uploaded it, and when I did I figured taking it down again would only spark more rumours, you know? I didn’t mean to drag you into this mess. I’m really sorry.”

Louis softens, and takes a sip from the colourful drink the bartender just placed in front of him before he speaks. It tastes like passion fruit – yum. “Nah, it’s alright,” he says with a small shrug as he offers Harry a timid smile. “Who’d have thought your fans would freak out over a boy in one of your photos anyway? Besides, you earned me a couple of thousand twitter followers, it might come in handy for my career someday.”

“Oh, right,” Harry exclaims as though he suddenly realised something. “You must be a model, of course, though I suppose I should have realised that from the start, you’re certainly gorgeous enough to be one. Plus, you know, with this being a fashion industry party and all.”

Louis can feel heat colour his cheeks at Harry’s comment about his looks, and if he didn’t know better, he’d have sworn by the way Harry’s eyes were twinkling at him, the way Harry’s body was turned towards Louis, that Harry was flirting with him. Surely not though. Louis must be drunker than he thought.

“Um, no, actually,” Louis denies, taking another sip of his drink to distract himself from Harry’s stupidly handsome face. “No, I’m just…” he hesitates for a moment and then chooses to go with a watered-down version of the truth. “I’m just a drama student, really. My best mate’s a model, I’m just here with him. Zayn Malik, maybe you know him?”

“Not personally, no,” Harry denies, “Seen his ads though.” He offers Louis a cheeky wink, and honestly Louis has probably never been so confused by one person in his life. “A drama student, though?” Harry raises his eyebrows, seeming to contemplate something. “That’s even better.” He murmurs, seemingly to himself, and Louis is confused, is just about to ask Harry what he means when the other man speaks again. “I presume you want to become an actor?”

“Well,” Louis shrugs. “That’s the highly unrealistic goal, yeah. The dream, innit? I’ll probably just settle for maybe becoming a teacher or something. Little kids, you know? Love ‘em.”

“What would you say…” Harry starts slowly, looking intently at Louis as though he’s trying to gauge Louis’ automatic reaction to his next words, whatever they might be. “What would you say if I offered you a job?”

“I’d say I’m not that kind of boy, Styles,” Louis replies with a lopsided smirk, convinced that Harry must be joking.

“Oh, no!” Harry exclaims, his eyes widening comically. “Not like that, no, _god_ , no. I’m not like that. I’m offering—I mean a _real_ job, an acting job—“ He stops mid-sentence, as though he realises how that could be perceived too. “With clothes!” He explains clumsily, tripping over his own words trying not to insult Louis while really Louis is just trying not to laugh. “A real acting job, with clothes on, I promise.”

“Relax, Curly.” Louis laughs softly, the nickname slipping out without permission, tongue loose due to alcohol. “I’m just messing with you. You’re not a director though, love, I hardly think you have the power to walk around offering poor students acting roles.”

“No, no,” Harry shakes his head, “Let me explain. I mean, that’s why I’m here, actually. To find an actor.”

“To find an actor?” Louis parrots, questions, his eyebrows raised skeptically. “You’re here at a party for models, designers and photographers to find an actor?”

“Well,” Harry says sheepishly, “Yeah?” He shakes his head then, as though he realises himself how stupid and sketchy that sounds. “No, really. Listen to me. I’m shooting my new music video in two weeks, and I haven’t been able to find the right boy to appear in it, like every single one I’ve been presented with just hasn’t been _right_. It’s a very special video to me. So my management team sent me here to see if I could find anyone I’d be satisfied with since we’re, you know, kind of running out of time, and they’re growing a bit impatient with me.”

“Didn’t think you singers had any say over who or what went into your videos?” Louis questions, genuinely curious.

“Most don’t,” Harry explains. “I didn’t used to either, but I changed my management firm a few months back. I’m signed with two of my best mates now, and as I said, this video is important to me. They understand.”

“Well, if it’s so important to you, isn’t it a bit stupid to cast me just because you accidentally made my twitter mentions blow up?” Louis questions, feeling slightly bemused by Harry Styles and his absolutely ridiculous do-gooder intentions.

“That’s not why I’m doing it!” Harry protests, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout impressively similar to that of Louis’ two year old little brother.

“You don’t even know what my acting is like,” Louis points out. “For all you know I could be horrible!”

“You’re not horrible,” Harry protests, as though he knows the opposite and the mere fact that Louis’d dare suggest such thing is an actual insult to him. “I’m sure you’re fantastic. Besides, you just have to be yourself, really, it’s not like what I’m asking for is gonna require much knowledge about the techniques of method acting or whatever.”

“But the point is,” Louis argues, not even sure why he’s doing so when Harry Styles is actually offering him something that could not only put some much needed money into his bank account, but also maybe give him some exposure in the business that might lead to more roles. Still, this is absolutely ridiculous. “The point is that you don’t _know_ that, Harry.”

“Are you saying you’re not a good actor?” Harry questions innocently, eyes widening comically.

“No,” Louis protests. “I’m a fucking brilliant actor, thank you very much, I just—“

“Ha!” Harry exclaims victoriously. “See, I knew it!” He looks way too smug for Louis’ liking, so Louis reaches out to swat his shoulder.

“Don’t be smug,” he tells him, settling back onto his barstool. “I’m just saying, you can’t just pick me out of guilt, you should at least look at my audition tape or something.”

“I’m not.” Harry grins, and then clarifies, “I’m not picking you out of guilt. I’m picking you because you’re easily the most handsome man in this room, and I’ve kind of been thinking about you ever since I noticed you on that Instagram photo of mine and stalked your twitter page.”

“Harry…” Louis frowns, unsure how to respond. See, he’s flattered, right? Really very, very flattered. Getting that kind of compliment from a man like Harry would usually send him floating towards the sun, but now he’s just confused. This Harry certainly isn’t acting like the Harry Styles from the tabloids, certainly doesn’t seem to show any interest in the dozens of beautiful female models in the room with them. Seems to only have eyes for Louis, actually. There’s really no doubt anymore that Harry’s flirting with him, so maybe there’s something to what Lottie was talking about? Louis doesn’t know, he’s just confused, and the alcohol certainly isn’t helping him think straight.

“Who’d I be acting with?” he asks, trying to ease the tension that’s so palpable between them, trying to distract himself from the way Harry’s looking at him.

“Well,” Harry says, an odd, bemused quirk to the corner of his mouth. “With me, of course. It _is_ my video after all.”

“So it’s like a laddy dude bro pal themed video?” Louis asks with a raised eyebrow, trying not to think in alternatives.

“A laddy dude bro… what? No,” Harry frowns. “Why’d you think that? What even is that? Is that where we just eat pizza and watch footie and talk about boobs?”

“I like pizza,” Louis grins with a shrug. “And footie. Don’t particularly care for boobs though.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Harry admits carelessly with a grin, like it’s no big deal at all.

“Harry,” Louis says carefully, leaning forward a bit as though trying to prevent anyone from overhearing their conversation. It’s a bit ridiculous, in the noisy club it’s not like anyone was ever going to. “You _are_ straight, right?”

“Whatever makes you think that?” Harry asks with a small bemused smile.

“Um,” Louis fish-mouths, and then lists, “Well, how about Taylor Swift and Kendall Jenner for instance?”

“Yeah, uh, no,” Harry frowns, “I’ve never been with any of them. Gayer than a pink glitter unicorn puking rainbows, really, that’s me. Is that such a surprise? I’ve been flirting with you this entire time. I thought you’d noticed. _You_ are gay, right? I’m pretty sure I saw something on your twitter about that…” He seems suddenly mortified, quickly adding more space between the two of them.

“I thought you were just being nice!” Louis exclaims, shaking his head as he tries to wrap his mind around it all. “I thought you were straight!” He shakes his head and running a hand through his hair. “I mean, yeah, _I’m_ gay, I—wait, wait a minute, is that… is that why you… did you offer me a job because I’m gay? Is this some sort of twisted pick up method you use because you’re in the closet? What—“

“No!” Harry interrupts him, reaching forward and grabbing one of Louis’ hands between his own. “No, god, _no_. Not at all, I swear. Look, Louis,” he looks over his shoulder worriedly, as though he suddenly realises where they are and is making sure no one is trying to listen in on their conversation. “Can we go talk somewhere private, please?”

Louis raises his eyebrow questioningly. “Is this—“

“No,” Harry shakes his head again, already standing, “No, listen, look, you’re fucking gorgeous, of course I’d like to take you home, I wouldn’t have been flirting with you all night if that wasn’t the case. But that’s not why I offered you the job, why I’m _offering_ you it. Can we just—look, it’s technically all hush-hush, so if you’ll just come with me somewhere private, I’ll explain it all to you, I promise. Opposite ends of the sofa, all clothes stay on, I promise. Hell, we can just chat in my car while my driver takes you home.”

“You say that as though I’d mind if you took off your clothes, Harry.” Louis smiles, aware that he must be giving Harry whiplash with his changes in mood. It’s just that he’s confused, is all, and trying to make sense of everything he’s being told. He _does_ like Harry though, he’s hella fit, so if the other lad is presenting it as an option, well… Louis wouldn’t exactly be opposed to getting to know Harry a bit better.

“I…” Harry says, seeming unsure how to react.

Louis shakes his head, cutting Harry off. “I’m just really confused, yeah? This isn’t exactly how I envisioned my night going, you know?”

Harry smiles timidly at him as Louis gets down from the chair, ready to follow Harry out. “Me neither,” Harry says as they start walking, his hand resting gently on the small of Louis’ back as he guides him through the mass of people. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to actually meet you, to be honest. Figured it would be pretty creepy to track you down just based on that Instagram photo.”

“Pretty creepy, yeah,” Louis agrees with a grin and a teasing nudge to Harry’s shoulder. “If I had known it was because you had a crush on me though, I’m not sure I’d have minded so much.”

Harry blushes slightly, and places his large hand on the small of Louis’ back as he guides him towards the back entrance. “I don’t really want us to get papped,” he explains, as he holds open the door for Louis. A car is already parked in the alley, waiting for them, and the driver steps out to open the door for them. Louis quickly gives him his address upon Harry’s prompting.

“To be rich and famous, eh?” Louis murmurs quietly as he climbs into the car.

“I imagine you’ll get your own taste of that soon enough,” Harry smiles at him, and Louis can’t help but shake his head.

“You have a lot of confidence in my acting abilities for someone who’s never seen me on a stage.” Louis states dryly, though he can’t deny that every bit of praise from Harry makes him feel particularly warm and fuzzy inside.

“I’m a good judge of character,” Harry grins back at him as he settles into the leather seats.

“And gay, apparently,” Louis raises his eyebrow, “And you want me to star in your music video with you?”

“Yeah,” Harry nods, intertwining his own fingers. “Yeah. I’m gay, and, uh, all the girls were part of the media image my old management and PR team crafted for me when I started my career. My new team’s been working on changing my image since they took over, preparing for my coming out essentially. The video is pretty much going to be it, yeah? So you’d be playing my romantic interest.”

“So it _was_ all a ploy to get in my pants?” Louis asks with a grin, this time only teasing. Truth is what Harry’s doing must be so hard, and if Louis can in anyway help him… well, he wants to. It doesn’t hurt that he’ll get to spend more time with Harry, particularly not now that he knows Harry’s gay and at least somewhat interested in Louis.

“No, I mean, I won’t lie, it’s an added bonus getting to spend some more time with you, but you won’t have to do anything in the video you don’t want to, obviously,” Harry hurries to assure him.

“Isn’t it a bit risky to tell random strangers that you’re gay?” Louis suddenly wonders, furrowing his brows.

“I trust you,” Harry states with a shrug. “I don’t think you’re the kind of person who’d go to the press with it, and even if you were, it wouldn’t matter much. My team could probably stop the story, and if all goes according to the plan, I’ll be out in a couple of months anyway.”

“No, I mean…” Louis trails off, shakes his head and then tries again. “I’d never, no, of course not. I know what it’s like being in the closet, even if it is a while back, but, like… I’d never dream of outing anyone against their will.”

“See?” Harry asks, nudging Louis’ shoulder gently. “That’s what I said. I’m a terrific judge of character.”

“You’re ridiculous, is what you are.” Louis shakes his head. “Going around outing yourself to strangers, offering acting jobs to boys you don’t even know.”

“Well, it’s not actually something I make a habit out of,” Harry shrugs sheepishly. “As I said, I did stalk your twitter account though, so I do feel like I know you just a little bit. And I would really like to get to know you better.”

Louis shakes his head, laughing a bit incredulously. “This is so fucking surreal.”

“You could come over tomorrow, if you’d like?” Harry offers then, ignoring Louis’ comment. The car is pulling to a stop by the curb in front of Louis’ flat. “You could hear the song, and I could tell you about the concept for the video, and I could have the contract ready for you to look over. I could make dinner too.”

“So business or pleasure?” Louis asks with a coy grin, butterflies inhabiting his stomach now that he’s sobered up a bit and the reality of what is happening has truly sunk in.

Harry lets out a small laugh, a beautiful sound that Louis surely wouldn’t mind being the source of a lot more. “Why can’t it be both?” Harry answers.

“I like knowing what I’m going into.” Louis shrugs, quenching his nervousness. “Miscommunications are such a waste of time. So. Are you asking me on a date or not?”

Harry blushes slightly, and Louis can’t believe he actually made lothario extraordinaire Harry Styles _blush_. Harry seems almost bashful when he answers. “I’d love nothing more than to take you on a date, but I think you deserve more than going through contracts and eating pasta in my place. I want to woo you.”

Louis’ heart is hammering wildly while he tries to remain nonchalant. “I’d be plenty satisfied with leftovers and reruns, Harold.” He replies. “I’m not one of your celebrity friends.” He makes sure to use a mischievous tone, wants to make sure Harry knows that Louis is only teasing him.

“No,” Harry agrees with a small, odd smile on his face. “No, you’re really not.” The way he says it makes Louis think that Harry actually counts it as a good thing.

“Really, though,” Louis says honestly, “I don’t need you to woo me at all.”

“Maybe I want to though,” Harry says, completely unabashed, like he isn’t talking to a man he’s only known for a few hours. Honestly Louis doesn’t know what Harry sees in him, how he could have formed an opinion about Louis so quickly, want to give dating Louis a try so quickly. Harry’s coming out soon apparently, he could literally have any boy on the planet, so why Louis? Harry almost answers Louis’ question when he speaks next. “Maybe I think you deserve it.”

A blush spreads over Louis’ cheek, and he isn’t quite sure how to respond.

“Look, Louis,” Harry says, straightening up a bit. “I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings. I don’t know you yet, but I’d really like to. But this job offer isn’t contingent upon you going out with me, or sleeping with me. I’m not that kind of arsehole. I’d love to work with you no matter what, I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything.”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to say no to the opportunity to appear in a music video with one of the biggest music names right now,” Louis says honestly, because drunk or not, he’s able to recognise what an extraordinary opportunity this is. And he’s feeling quite sober too, really. Funny what a serious conversation can do. Maybe Harry’s a bit off his rocker, or at least very desperate, to be offering it to Louis, but Louis certainly won’t complain. “Your last album was nominated for a Grammy for Christ sake, that’s insane! I mean, this one probably will be too!” he continues, “And I’m certainly not going to say no to a date with you either. You’re sweet and funny and, well, _fit_. Plus, it’ll make all my sisters jealous.”

Harry’s grin widens, dimples deepening. “I’m glad I can inspire a bit of family drama then. Always fun, that. Hand over your phone, babe.”

Raising an eyebrow, Louis does so, and watches as Harry types in his own number. It’s completely surreal, sitting in the back of Harry Styles’ car, the other man’s phone number now in his contacts.  

“Thanks?” Louis says, the word more of a question than a statement as he accepts the phone Harry hands back to him.

Harry laughs, those goddamn dimples on display and Louis can’t quite figure out if he wants to stick his finger or his tongue into them, but either way, both options are just really fucking weird. He hopes it’s the alcohol talking, but then again, to be fair, Harry does have very lovely dimples. Louis could write sonnets and soliloquies about them, really. Maybe even a villanelle too.

“You’re welcome,” Harry says. “I hope you don’t mind, but I sent myself a text so I’d have your number too.”

“Sneaky,” Louis murmurs, unable to keep in a grin. He glances down as he accepts his phone back, their fingers brushing. He’s only a little bit embarrassed to admit how his heart beats just a little bit faster when they do so.

“Crafty,” Harry counters, his smile still wide. A moment of silence passes, and Louis suddenly remembers that they’re parked in front of his building, and he really ought to get out of the car.

“I’ll just...” he starts, trailing off and motioning towards the door.

“Yeah,” Harry nods, his smile dimming slightly. “It was really lovely meeting you. I… well, I really hope I’ll see you tomorrow? Or another day if tomorrow doesn’t suit you.” He sounds nervous, and Louis can’t help but find it both flattering and endearing. It’s Harry Styles sitting opposite him, and he’s nervous about asking Louis to see him again. It’s Harry Styles who’s made it abundantly clear since they first encountered each other, that he’s attracted to Louis and interested in more than just friendship. More than just a one night stand, even, if Louis is interpreting the signs right. And he usually is. Maybe that’s what gives him the courage to do what he does next.

Breathing in deep to sort of steel himself, internally praying that he hasn’t interpreted everything wrongly, he leans forward. He looks into Harry’s slightly shocked eyes, and when the other man doesn’t pull back, neither does Louis. He shuts his eyes when their lips are millimetres from each other, right after Harry’s have fluttered closed too. He closes his eyes, and mere moments later, their lips connect for the first time.

It’s strange, because Louis has had his fair share of first kisses with people, and every first kiss has been unique for better or for worse. Some wet, some sloppy, some great and some downright awful. This one with Harry is unlike any of them, though, because it’s as if Harry’s got a hold of Louis’ heart too – cliché as it sounds – and is just squeezing it tightly, so tight. He almost can’t relax into the kiss, because every nerve ending of his is on high alert, his body almost quivering with just… feelings. It’s so intense, is what it is, and maybe it’s because he’s slightly tipsy, or maybe it’s because he’s not actually at all, but all he knows is that it feels bigger, it feels like more than anything else. It feels perfect.

And, yes, he’s perfectly aware of how ridiculous that makes him sound, he’s perfectly aware that maybe it’s just because he’s hopelessly star struck by Harry. But he doesn’t think so though, he doesn’t think so at all.

It doesn’t really have to be that complicated. Sometimes life is simple, and this feels like the simplest of it all. They like each other. There’s an instant attraction, an all-encompassing chemistry. So, really… why complicate it when there’s no need to?

He hopes he still feels so in the morning, once the small amount of liquid courage in him is gone. More than anything, he hopes that Harry still feels so in the morning.

He pulls back to look Harry in the eyes, really studies them. Big, green and sparkling they might be the most beautiful eyes Louis has ever had the pleasure of looking into.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Harry asks shyly, looking like it’s almost incomprehensible to him what has just happened. It definitely is to Louis, so, like, he can sympathise. Still, it’s still a bit hard to get it to sink in that it’s Harry Styles sitting opposite him, looking nervous because he thinks Louis might not agree to see him again. What an absolutely ridiculous thought. To be fair, Louis would probably pledge to spend the rest of his life with Harry right here, right now if it was so asked of him, and it’s not just because he’s tipsy, star struck and Harry’s an abnormally good kisser. It’s _not_.  

“Yeah,” Louis breathes. He looks down bashfully and shrugs. “I mean, if you’ll still want to in the morning. You’ve got my number and all now.”

“I do,” Harry says quietly, his eyes big and earnest and so, so green as they bore into Louis’. “And I will. I definitely, definitely will.”

“Okay,” Louis says, allowing himself to smile. A small laugh bubbles out of him and he almost can’t believe this is his actual real life. “Okay, yeah. I, uh—I better go, I think. Keeping parts of the mystery and all, getting away before you sober up completely.”

It’s a joke, of course it is, but Harry frowns as though he’s not sure how to take it. “I’m not—“ he starts, but Louis stops him by placing a finger on his lips, effectively shushing him.

“I know,” Louis says, his voice soft and fond. Too soft and too fond for an acquaintance he’s only made hours ago. “I was just kidding. I really should be going, though. Sleep and all, you know.”

Harry nods, not able to say anything with Louis’ finger still pressed against his lips. Louis’ heart practically skips a beat when Harry purses his lips and kisses the pad of Louis’ finger, though, because _fuck_. Just fuck.

Louis draws it back, and he kind of wants to promise something ridiculous like how he’ll never wash his hand again or anything, but before he gets to contemplate how to keep the memory of Harry Styles kissing his finger as intact as possible, Harry’s leaning forward towards Louis. He’s doing it slowly, as though allowing for Louis to put a stop to it, if he were so inclined. He’s definitely not, though. Definitely, definitely not. He leans forward himself, crossing the last distance and sealing their lips together chastely. It’s a short kiss, family friendly and really only a goodbye. When Louis pulls back he’s met with Harry’s sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks. He looks like he wants to say something, and Louis waits, allows him time to contemplate whether he should or not, whether he wants to share with Louis or not.

When Harry speaks it’s sort of timid, a little bit afraid almost, and it breaks Louis’ heart to think about what this man in front of him must have suffered through for fame, how that easy confidence he ensues when in a social environment doesn’t seem to be nearly as present when alone, when with Louis. Louis tries not to take it personally, knows it’s probably got more to do with how Harry’s been viciously closeted, how he’s probably never been in an actual relationship, has probably never been sure who he could trust since becoming famous, has probably experienced time and time again how people took advantage of him and his fame. It makes Louis want to throw up, and he vows to never, _ever_ be one of those people in Harry’s life.

“I, uh—“ Harry starts, before pausing to clear his throat. “I hope you’ll still feel—uh, I hope I’ll see you tomorrow.” It’s an echo of what he said only minutes ago and it’s clearly not what he wanted to say, but Louis takes pity on him.

He leans forward and kisses Harry’s cheek. “I really, really, really hope I’ll hear from you tomorrow, popstar,” Louis says, reaching down to squeeze Harry’s hand before moving towards the exit of the car. He’s not going to be the first to make contact with Harry, mostly because he doesn’t want to be the one who forces himself on Harry if the star wakes up tomorrow and regrets everything. He wants to allow Harry a window to back out if this isn’t what he wants come morning light. Louis feels a bit like he’s Cinderella, like this is too big and too grand and he can’t quite figure out how to unite it with his everyday uni life. Harry Styles likes him, wants him – in more ways than one. He could potentially be looking back at this moment in years and think of it as the time his relationship with international big shot Harry Styles started. And it’s not even Louis having utopian dreams, because they’ve exchanged numbers, and they’ve kissed, and it’s everything and a lot more than what Louis has ever felt with anyone before. He doubts it’s just the star factor, knows it isn’t. Sometimes you just know, his gran once told him, and he thinks that maybe he never really understood what she meant until now. It’s not exactly love at first sight, more like fascination and infatuation and somehow just a _click_. It’s a little bit like they’ve just effortlessly clicked together and Louis feels like he should be intimidated by the sheer notion of who Harry _is_ , but he’s not, not really. It just feels remarkably normal. Remarkably like home.

“I’ll call,” Harry says, all the worry gone from his features. He seems happy, relaxed.

“I’ll pick up,” Louis grins back and he opens the door. He slips out, into the chilly night air. “I promise.”

 

\--

 

When the clock strikes noon and Louis still hasn’t heard from Harry he begins to entertain the thought that maybe he won’t. If it wasn’t for the number in his contacts labelled _Harry Styles_ followed by a banana emoji, Louis might even have believed that he’d gotten so sloshed he’d dreamt up everything from last night. As it is, though, he’s entirely positive that it happened and somehow Harry’d ended up convincing Louis that he really would call. It’s perhaps kind of silly to expect that said call would come before noon, but with every passing minute he’s losing hope.

He’s in the middle of making himself a sandwich when his phone rings. He’s already spoken to both his mum and Zayn today, so the fact that his phone rings isn’t necessarily grounds for rejoicing. At this point he’s pretty convinced it’ll just be Lottie or someone, so when he picks up his battered iPhone 4, cracked screen and all, and sees ‘Harry Styles’ flashing on the display, complete with a banana emoji, he’s pretty shocked. He stares at his phone for a moment before remembering that answering when someone calls is usually considered polite and he hurries to swipe to accept the call.

“Hello?” he asks, half expecting to have Harry’s manager on the other line demanding that he deletes Harry’s number and never contacts him again.

“Hi,” comes the voice in the other end, undeniably Harry’s voice. “Um, Louis?”

“Yeah,” Louis says, and then coughs to clear his throat. He coughs again, louder this time. “Yeah, it’s me. Hi.”

“Hey,” Harry says again, and then he chuckles sheepishly, his laughter sounding lovely even over the phone. “Sorry, hi. Um, yeah. Hi, Louis. I’m so glad you picked up.”

Louis laughs, his heart feeling light all of a sudden. “Hullo Harry, I’m glad you called.”

“Of course,” Harry says, sounding almost affronted that Louis might think otherwise. “I said I would, didn’t I?”

“And I promised I’d pick up, remember?” Louis reminds him. “I wasn’t sure if you’d realised that is was all a ridiculous idea in the light of day, though.”

“’Course not,” Harry says, sounding determined. “How could I? It’s a brilliant idea, after all. Seriously, Louis, I… I remember everything about last night, and I don’t regret anything.”

“Me too,” Louis says softly, and he can’t keep the smile off his face. “I remember too. And I don’t regret anything either.”

“So you still wanna see me tonight?” Harry asks, almost as though he’s still a bit afraid of Louis’ answer. There’s excitement in his voice too, though, and Louis latches on to that. God, to think that Harry Styles of all people is excited to see Louis, is scared that maybe Louis won’t want to see him too, is absolutely mind-baffling.

“Please,” Louis says, and it’s funny how he’s just perfectly honest with Harry. Usually he’d maybe have played it a bit coy, not wanting to show all his cards from the beginning, not wanting to throw himself into anything fully until he was sure he wasn’t going to end up somewhere he couldn’t reach the bottom. But with Harry everything is different. He doesn’t want there to be any room for possible misunderstandings, wants to be completely sure that whatever happens, if something goes wrong, it’s not because he wasted his time playing silly games or not letting Harry know what he wanted.

“I’d really like to see you tonight,” he says.

He can almost hear the smile in Harry’s voice when Harry answers: “Me too, Louis. I can’t wait.”

Louis finds himself grinning and in true chick flick fashion he kinds of wants to dance around in his living room a little. He hasn’t said anything to anyone about this yet, wants it to be for just him and Harry for just a little while, wants to make sure that it’s for keeps, but from the way they’re currently talking, almost too giddy to form words, and last night taken into consideration too, he doesn’t think there’s much chance of Louis not calling Zayn to tell him everything in the near future.

“Do you want me to send a car to pick you up?” Harry asks. “I figured we could do it at my house if that’s alright? It’s a bit outside of central London so it might be a bit of a hassle getting here by public transportation. Unless you’ve got a car?”

“No car,” Louis laughs, “Not really possible on a tight student budget. If you’re sure it’s no trouble I guess it would be nice if you could send a car.”

“It’s really, really no trouble, Louis, not at all. I’ve already got your address from last night, I can send the driver to pick you up at five, is that alright?”

“Yeah,” Louis says, anticipation already churning in the pit of his stomach. There’s five hours until five o’clock, he’s not sure how he’s going to distract himself until then. “Do you need me to bring anything?”

“No, that’s alright. Just bring yourself and that’ll be perfect.”

“Cheesy,” Louis teases, making Harry laugh. It’s the most lovely sound.

“Any allergies I need to be aware of?” Harry asks through the remnants of his laughter.

“No,” Louis replies, “None at all. I’m pretty much all-eating.”

“Okay,” Harry says, “I’ll woo you with my cooking skills then.”

“Oh, yeah?” Louis laughs, “Back to the wooing, are we?”

“I told you I’d make it my mission,” Harry says, and Louis would lie if he said he wasn’t already pretty wooed. “I think I have to go now though. I gotta call my management and tell them that I’ve found you. They’re gonna be pretty relieved, I think. And I gotta get ready for tonight. Should probably hoover this place. But I’ll have a car at your place at five. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too,” Louis replies. “And don’t worry about hoovering. You should see my place.”

Harry laughs. “Noted,” he says, “I’ll see you in… about five hours and ten minutes then, Lou.”

“Can’t wait,” Louis replies, butterflies swarming in his stomach. “Bye, Harry.”

“Goodbye, Louis,” Harry says back before they both hang up the phone.

For a moment Louis does nothing, and then he shakes his head, brilliant smile practically splitting his face. He doesn’t think he’s felt this elated since he got the lead in the amateur play he auditioned last summer. God, he can’t quite believe that this is his life, that he’s currently living a life where Harry is genuinely interesting in him, where Harry wants him to act in his music video, where Harry wants him to act as his romantic counterpart. God, Harry’s going to come out to the world through this music video, it’s going to break every record ever and so many people are going to see it, are going to see him and Harry together, recognise him from Harry’s instagram picture probably. He should probably be more wary of what he’s gotten himself into, but he can’t be anything but just so, so excited. Not just for the role but for the opportunity to spend so much time with Harry, for the opportunity to get to know him, to maybe follow through what’s already starting to feel like the beginning of something really special.

First, though, he has to pass the next couple of hours, and he supposes that if he’s going to be a part of a Harry Styles music video, he might as well acquaint himself with the ones Harry has done before. And that’s how he ends up spending his afternoon watching all of Harry’s music videos (and some of them multiple times) before moving on to watching all of Little Mix’ music videos because Zayn’s had a crush on Perrie forever and Louis never really could resist a good dance routine. Then Louis had tried to study lines for his production class, but he’d gotten one of Harry’s catchy songs, Happily, on his brain and been unable to concentrate.  He’d then ended up watching _The Big Bang Theory_ until he realised that Harry’s car would arrive in only an hour and it was high time to start getting ready. After all, he’d probably be facing a crisis about what to wear no matter what he does.

As it happens he ends up being done getting ready with only minutes to spare. He’s opted for a softer look, more casual, his jeans not as tight and a worn grey jumper covering his upper body. He keeps his hair as unstyled as possible, only putting in just enough product to keep it out of his eyes in a soft, feathery fringe. He probably looks more homely than hot, but he’s going to be having dinner with Harry at his place not at some high-end restaurant, so he figures that it’s alright. And, well, it’s not like he’s showing up in sweats.

He leaves his flat at one minute past five, and when he steps out of the complex, the car from last night is already parked by the curb. The driver is standing next to the car, and he nods his head at Louis once he sees him.

“Good evening, Mr. Tomlinson,” the driver says, and for a moment Louis feels like he’s Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman or something, though of course he isn’t a prostitute. He takes a moment to appreciate that even though Harry is getting his driver to pick Louis up and offering Louis all these amazing opportunities, he hasn’t once made Louis feel like one.

“Good evening,” Louis replies with a smile. He shakes his head when the driver makes to open the passenger door for him. “Nah, that’s okay, mate,” he says, “I’ve got it.”

The driver nods and makes his way around the car as Louis climbs into the back seat.

“It’ll take about thirty minutes or so to get to Mr. Styles’ residence,” the driver tells him once he’s navigated back into traffic. “Do you have a preferred radio station you’d like me to find?”

“I’m not picky,” Louis ensures him, “I’m good with whatever.”

And that’s how he ends up spending the half hour in a car to Harry’s place listening to a political debate on some radio station he’s never even heard of before. On the bright side, though, he knows more about the different parties’ stand on farming regulations now than he’s ever known before.

Once the car pulls up in front of what must be Harry’s house based on the fact that the driver clearly isn’t intending to drive any further, it finally dawns on Louis that this is it. He’s actually about to see Harry again. Based on last night, there’s a fairly good chance he’ll even get to snog Harry again too, which… wow. He climbs out of the car and finally takes in his surroundings properly. Of course he’d noticed and knows that they’d left the busyness of central London, but he somehow hadn’t expected Harry’s place of residence to be the three-story red brick house in front of him. It looks a lot more like the house for a family of five than it looks like a bachelor pad. Louis isn’t quite sure what he’d expected Harry’s home to be like, but he sure hadn’t expected it to be this.

It’s stunning, no doubt about that. It’s beautiful, really, looks almost fit for a royal, and for a moment Louis feels quite inadequate with his tiny, tiny flat with the drafty windows and the squeaky floorboard. But then he remembers what vastly different lives he and Harry live, and that it has no impact on the kind of people they are or what value they have. He certainly hopes Harry sees it that way too, but he’s already pretty positive that he will. He needs only a tiny moment more to take in his surroundings and get his nerves under control, before he makes his way to the front door of the house. There’s an old brass knocker on the door, but Louis favours the modern bell instead, and takes a step back to wait once he’s pressed it.

He only has to wait a few moments before he can hear a commotion on the other side of the door, and next thing he knows it’s being opened, revealing a big-smiling Harry on the other side.

“Louis!” Harry exclaims, and his smile seems to widen impossibly. Louis’ stomach flutters with butterflies, and he feels a smile rivalling Harry’s in size forming on his own face.

“Hiya Harry,” he says, pushing his hands into his pockets for something to do.

“Come on in,” Harry opens the door wider, taking a step to the side to make it possible for Louis to enter.

“Thank you,” Louis says as he steps into the house. He turns towards Harry with a smile as he remarks, “It’s some house you’ve got here.”

“Yeah…” Harry chuckles sheepishly, shrugging a bit.  He closes the door behind Louis. “I guess it is. Real estate is a good investment, you know? And I like it here. Feels like home.”

“I bet,” Louis looks around what can hardly be described as anything but a proper hall. Like the outside of the house, the inside too is beautiful. Everything here seems to be a perfect mix of old and modern, like it’s mixed with antiques, family heirlooms and second-hand findings as well as contemporary styles. Louis can certainly understand why Harry would like living here, the very atmosphere of the house oozes of being a home. “Not sure it’s quite what I’d expected you to live in, though.”

“Too suburban-house-mum and not enough eligible-bachelor?” Harry teases.

“Yeah,” Louis nods with a laugh. “A bit too much antique and too few kegs.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Harry grins back as he places his hands behind his back and rocks a bit where he stands.

“Nah, love, it’s okay,” Louis shakes his head, still chuckling slightly. “It’s just… it’s kind of a family home, isn’t it?”

“Well,” Harry says with a shrug, “I mean, I hope it will be? Like eventually, I guess.”

“Oh,” Louis is momentarily stunned. He guesses it probably should have shocked him that Harry bought this house with a family in mind considering that it seems big enough to house at least a family of five or six, but still. He can’t help but be assaulted by images of coming home from work to this house and to Harry and to however many tiny humans they could get their hands on. It’s a pleasant thought, albeit wholly premature. “That’s so sweet.”

Harry blushes, like honest to god blushes and moves his hand up to scratch at his neck. Louis can’t help but feel a bit gleeful that he can elicit such a reaction from Harry. He takes a step closer to Harry then, reaching out his hand to squeeze Harry’s upper arm. His hand lingers there for a moment before letting go again. He looks up at Harry’s face and sees that the other man’s gaze is trained intently on Louis.

“Lou,” Harry says, sounding slightly nervous but keeping his gaze trained on Louis, keeping eye contact. “I don’t… I don’t wanna be presumptuous, or, like... overstep or anything. I just…” Harry takes a breath before reaching up to touch Louis’ cheek gently, cupping it with his large hand. Louis’ heart is hammering full speed ahead and he thinks that maybe he knows what Harry’s gonna say, but still he’s too scared to hope too much. “Can I kiss you?” Harry asks, confirming Louis’ hopes. The butterflies are wilder than ever in Louis’ stomach. “Please?”

“Yeah,” Louis breathes, turning his head slightly to kiss Harry’s palm. “Please kiss me, Harry.”

He only briefly registers Harry’s smile before he feels his lips on him. Louis remembers the kiss from last night as having been breathtakingly amazing, and the one today in no way disappoints. It’s gentle, tentative almost, as though they’re still testing the waters, so to speak. It’s good, though, more than anything it feels _natural,_ as though Louis could probably continue to do this for the rest of his life. Like, honestly, he’d be proper content if Harry was the only person he would get to kiss from now until the rest of time. He has a pretty good feeling that he’d never grow bored of it.

They keep it pretty innocent, Louis ending the kiss by pressing his lips against Harry’s chastely twice, before kissing the corner of his lips and then his cheek. Finally he draws back completely, though he keeps his one hand where it had migrated up to cup Harry’s cheek while they kissed.

“I love kissing you,” Harry announces then, and then promptly blushes the prettiest rose colour as though he hadn’t quite meant to announce it like that.

Louis laughs and can’t help but leans in to kiss Harry once, twice again. “I quite enjoy kissing you too, popstar.”

Harry smiles bashfully before shaking his head with a laugh. “I just…” he says, before taking a breath and leaning down to rest his forehead against Louis’ briefly. Somehow it’s almost more intimate than all the kisses they’ve shared so far. “It’s just… Lou, you gotta understand I’ve never really done this whole proper relationship thing before. And, like, I know we’re not in one. Like, _yet_ , hopefully. But, I mean, I—I just don’t want there to be any misunderstandings, yeah? I really, really like you. I know that must seem stupid considering how little time we’ve spent together, but I think sometimes you meet someone and you just _know_. It’s exactly what I’ve been singing all these songs about all this time, yeah? And I just don’t want there to be any doubt—I don’t want you to have any doubts about like my intentions or whatever. I really like you, and I really like kissing you, and I’d really like to continue kissing you no matter what happens with like the music video and whatever. I’d like to continue seeing you after I come out.”

“Harry,” Louis says, unsure of what else to say, really. Harry’s making him quite dizzy with his honesty. Louis finds it oddly hot, actually, doesn’t think he’s ever tried having a bloke be so straightforward with his intentions before, not unless it involved something they were about to do in the bedroom, or, well, in some club toilet stall. Bereft of words, Louis does the only thing that seems fitting, and leans forward to kiss Harry again. When they part this time, Louis smiles at Harry, can’t really help it. “I want you to know that you have my permission to kiss me anytime, anywhere,” he vows with a gentle smile. “And I want you to know that I really, really like you too. And I know what you mean. I’ve had a couple of boyfriends and flings, but I’ve never met anyone like you, Harry. It feels special, this. _You_ feel special.”

“Maybe _we’re_ just special,” Harry says, a wide smile plastered onto his face. He’s reached down to grab Louis’ hands in his own, clutching them tightly.

“Maybe we’re just saps,” Louis replies with a chuckle. He looks down at their joint hands, swinging them between them a bit. “Ridiculous saps. God, I can’t believe I’ve only known you for such a short time. It seems unbelievable, really. Like, I feel like I know you but at the same time, I don’t really know anything about you at all, you know?”

“Yeah,” Harry nods, and then squeezes Louis’ hands before letting go of them. “So let’s do something about it then, yeah? I wanna get to know you properly now. I want to know everything you want to tell me.” He leans forward and captures Louis’ lips in a kiss again, and it’s ridiculous, probably, how much they can’t stop doing that, but by gods it feels so good, Louis is scared that he’s already addicted.

“First, though,” Harry says once he’s leaned back. “We should go over the contract and like the business stuff. Then dinner and dating.”

“Business then pleasure?” Louis asks with a grin.

“Something like that,” Harry laughs, releasing one of Louis’ hands before beginning to walk further inside the house, using their still clasped hands to drag Louis along with him.

“Does that mean kisses are off the table for now, then?” Louis teases while simultaneously trying to take in his surroundings, trying to learn as much as he can about Harry from the way he lives from the way he’s decorated his house.

“Don’t think I could keep myself from kissing you now that we’ve started, mate,” Harry says with a cheeky grin as they’ve reached what appears to be the living room. Harry tugs Louis down into the couch, effectively stealing all his attention away from looking around the room. “I got my lawyers to draw up a contract for the video thing, and I figured I could tell you a bit about the concept. And then, like, you can take the contract home and get your own lawyers to look it over or whatever you prefer. I just need to have it back to me as soon as possible as we start shooting in two weeks. I promise there’s nothing like bad or anything in there, but like I totally understand that you’ll want to have it looked through by someone else.”

“Maybe we could just go through it together for starters?” Louis asks, not really keen on announcing the fact that a lawyer’s wage is probably a bit outside of what he can manage to get together the funds for.

“Sure,” Harry smiles back at him. “We can do that.”

He hands Louis a copy of the contract and then proceeds to explain it to him. As far as Harry tells him, it’s a pretty standard contract. When signing it, Louis will officially be employed by Harry’s management for the duration it will take to film the movie. There’s a NDA included too, which basically means that Louis won’t be allowed to share any intimate details about Harry with the press, won’t be allowed to tell them anything about the music video unless it’s approved by Harry’s team first. His eyes bug out slightly when he sees what he’ll be paid just to hang out with Harry on camera, but Harry brushes him off when Louis tells him that it’s way too much, and eventually Louis accepts that his bank account will look a lot better in the nearest future. It’s probably gonna be much needed soon, so it’s pretty good timing that Harry stumbled into his life and offered this opportunity now. After all, Louis is done with his theatre degree in only a couple of months, and as it is right now the great void of unemployment is waiting for him.

“As I said,” Harry says then, once they’ve reached the last page of the contract. “It’s a pretty standard contract. And, like, I swear there’s nothing in there that can in anyway like inconvenience you or make you liable in any way. But I totally understand if you want to get your lawyer to look it over, I mean like you’d be smart to, you know?”

“I don’t know if you know this, popstar,” Louis teases, “But us regular uni lads don’t normally have our own lawyer on speed dial. And, you know, I trust you. Perhaps that doesn’t make me very smart and like I should have my self-preservations skills looked at, but I do. So, yeah, I feel okay about signing this, I don’t think it’s gonna trap me into anything. I mean, like, it looks like a pretty standard employment contract, and, well, the NDA makes sense considering… you know,” he gestures vaguely towards Harry, making the other man laugh. “So,” Louis says, “Hand over a pen and I’ll sign.”

“Wait!” Harry exclaims, startling Louis slightly. Harry shakes his head with a chuckle, having evidently startled himself too. “Wait,” he repeats softer. “I should tell you about the video first, and like, you should hear the song to make sure you really wanna do it.”

“Harry,” Louis says, slightly endeared that this seems to mean so much to Louis, “Of course I wanna do it, I—“

“Please,” Harry says, reaching over to touch Louis’ wrist. “I know it’s maybe silly to you, but it would make me feel better to know that you know what you’re getting into. I want to be sure that you won’t think it’s something that’ll damage your career later on.”

“Okay,” Louis says then, slightly floored over Harry’s sincerity. He takes a hold of Harry’s hand and brings it up to his lips to kiss it. It’s perhaps too intimate for two people who’ve only known each other officially for a grand total of less than twenty-four hours, but, well, Louis can’t exactly bring himself to care when Harry smiles at him like he currently is. “Tell me about your masterpiece, popstar.”

“I really like it when you call me that,” Harry confesses sheepishly, turning his hand over to lace his fingers with Louis’. “But, yeah, as I think I mentioned to you yesterday, I’m gonna come out through the video. Like, that’ll be the confirmation. Of course I’m gonna do interviews afterwards and such, but the video is pretty much gonna be it. It’s gonna be an added layer of publicity if you decide to join, because, well, the media is going to connect you to the picture on instagram, no doubt. We can… like we can work out with my publicist what to say about that. Maybe that I took that picture after you’d agreed to be in the video or something. And, well, I guess if you wanna continue seeing me after all this, we need to figure out how we wanna do that, like the media scrutiny is gonna be intense after I drop the video. But that’s still another two months off, so we’ve got plenty of time to work that out before, you don’t have to commit to anything yet.”

“We could date a bit,” Louis suggests, even though to him, and, like, with all the kissing and the few short talks they’ve had, it’s pretty obviously what they’re gonna do. “And like get to know each other over the next two months. And then I guess we’ll see whether it’s something we want to continue doing publicly.”

“You’d be okay with that?” Harry asks, a touch of wonder in his voice. “Like okay with dating me publicly when the time comes? It’s probably going to be a bit of a circus and like a lot of paps and fans and media attention. Probably a lot of jerks saying shitty stuff too. And like… if you wanna make it as an actor, maybe you would want to—“

“No,” Louis interrupts him firmly. “If I’m gonna make it as an actor, it’s going to be while I’m very much out of the closet. I’m not going to hide my sexuality in hopes of getting bigger and better roles. Maybe that’s stupid of me, but I’d rather be true to myself than the next Leonardo Dicaprio. If the industry isn’t ready for an out gay actor, then it’s their loss.”

“Brave,” Harry corrects him. “I think that’s brave of you, not stupid.”

“And to answer your other question,” Louis says then, smiling at Harry. “I’m pretty sure that you’re worth putting up with all the media scrutiny and such.”

Harry smiles big and seems almost at a loss for what to say. He leans forward then and plants his lips on Louis’ instead. Louis can’t really say that he minds, to him it seems like a pretty adequate way of responding.

Maybe it’s the setting with them on the couch, maybe it’s because of what they just talked about, or maybe it’s something else entirely. But this time the kiss turns heated quickly, Louis edging his tongue inside of Harry’s mouth after only a few moment of kissing. His hand goes to Harry’s hair, getting tangled up in it, and he can’t help but moan into the kiss when Harry’s hand clutches him closer, his hand bunching up the fabric of Louis’ jumper.

“God,” Harry gasps, leaning back from the kiss. “Fuck. Shit, Lou, you’re irresistible. God.”

Louis’ heart soars at Harry’s words, at the fact that he’s the one who’s currently affecting Harry like this, making him sound like that. When Harry shows no inclination towards kissing Louis again, Louis leans in and connects his lips with Harry’s jaw, kissing along it until he reaches the point where Harry’s jaw connects to his neck. Louis sucks at it slightly, lapping his tongue over the spot which in turn makes Harry moan out loud.

“ _Louuuu_ ,” he practically whines. “God, _Something Great_!”

Harry’s exclamation makes Louis chuckle slightly against his skin. “Yeah, okay, babe,” Louis mutters, placing open-mouthed kisses over the damp skin he’s been kissing. “You’re something great too.”

“No,” Harry says, taking Louis’ head in his hands and kissing him firmly once, twice, three times before drawing back. “No, the song,” Harry clarifies, though it only serves to confuse Louis even more. “I need to tell you about the song and the video. Business then pleasure, remember?”

Louis leans forward to peck Harry on the lips one last time. He can’t really help himself, it’s like an addiction. “Alright,” he says, pushing his hands under his thighs. “I’ll be good, I promise. Tell me about the song. _Something Great_ , yeah? That’s a nice title. Can I hear it?”

“I—“ Harry says, then stutters slightly. He shifts slightly on the sofa, and makes to get up from it, but then stops himself. “You want to? You’re sure?”

“Harry, you idiot,” Louis says fondly, always fond. “Of course I want to hear it. One thing is that I love your music, so I’m not gonna say no to a preview of the new stuff. But, like, I wanna know what kind of lyrics we’re doing this video for too.”

“Okay, I—okay,” Harry reaches for the rose gold iPhone lying on the table. It has no case to protect it, and honestly Louis finds that more than anything to be a mark on how rich Harry is, because you better believe that if Louis were to get his hands on an iPhone 6s, he’d wrap it in bubble wrap and ask people to wash their hands before they even touched it. He can’t help but smile, though, because of course Harry would choose the rose gold option when he could. “Is it silly that I’m a little nervous?”

“Very silly,” Louis says with a smile. “But it’s okay. I’ll hold your hand.”

Harry laughs. “Okay,” he says, “Here goes.”  He presses play on his phone, and a few soulful notes can be heard before Harry reaches out his hand, prompting Louis’ to take it in his.  

Harry’s voice starts out crooning through the speakers of the phone:

_“One day you’ll come into my world and say it all,  
You’ll say we’ll be together even when you’re lost…”_

Louis very carefully listens to the actual lyrics, hanging on to such as ‘ _is it too much to ask for something great?’_ and ‘ _I want you here with me, like how I pictured it, so I don’t have to keep imagining’_. It speaks of a profound longing, an all encompassing need and Louis is honestly completely floored. It’s raw and it’s honest and more than anything, the song _touches_ you. Harry’s voice is amazing, of course, but so is his _message_ , and as a listener you can’t help but feel like your heart is breaking right alongside Harry’s. It’s a song worthy not of one Grammy but of several. Louis would give it every Grammy in the world, if he could, and probably even throw an Oscar and a Tony in there as well.

What speaks the most to him, though, is the very end of the song. Just simple repetition of a message so pure, clear and honest it almost leaves him breathless.

_You’re all I want, so much it’s hurting._

The funny thing is that it almost sounds like an answer to the rest of the song. Almost like… it should be sung by someone else, not Harry. Like the one Harry’s singing to should really sing it. He’s sort of shaken to the core in a way, in the very best way, over Harry’s song because it’s just so… honest and pure. So deep and so genuine. Louis feels like slightly ridiculous need to shed a tear or two.

He must have been silent for too long after the song ended because the next thing he hears is Harry’s tentative, “Lou?”

“Huh,” Louis says rather unintelligently, snapping out of his thought, “Sorry?”

“Is… Was—was it that bad?” Harry asks wearily, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

“What?” Louis asks dumly, “Bad? What? No. Fuck, _no_. Harry it was… it was amazing. Like proper seven Grammy’s-kind-of-amazing! I loved it.”

Harry’s eyes light up, and he squeezes the hand of Louis’ he’s still clutching tightly. “Really?” he asks, “You mean that?”

“Of course I mean it,” Louis ensures him, squeezing his hand back and scooting closer on the sofa until their knees touch. “It was… breath-taking, Harry. Just stunning, really. I’m so… _awed_! I just. It was really, like, deep, Harry? I’m just. Wow.”

“You—“ Harry starts, wonder filling his face and his voice simultaneously, as though he suddenly gets his revelation right then and there. “You really like it.”

Louis smiles, his heart soaring because, well, because that hadn’t been a question from Harry, it had been a _statement_. And, really, that means everything.

“I really _loved_ it, Harry,” Louis corrects with a gentle smile.

It’s like the sun breaks out on Harry’s face as he smiles widely at Louis’ words, as though it means everything to have Louis’ approval.

“It was so good you got stuck in your own head after hearing it?” Harry teases. He brings up Louis’ hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it. “Probably said your name twenty times before you reacted.”

“Lies,” Louis shakes his head with a laugh. “You’re a filthy lying liar who lies, Harry Styles.”

Harry laughs and shakes his head. It’s maybe the best sound Louis has ever heard. “Okay,” he relents with the biggest smile, “A little bit. But it was at least four times.” He hesitates for a moment and then prompts again, “Why?”

“Well,” Louis smiles and gives a self-conscious shrug and clears his throat, “Well, part of it was that it was really great, you know? But I also just tried to listen carefully for the lyrics, and, like, I just found the ending really interesting, is all.”

“Oh?” Harry raises his eyes in curiosity, peering intently at Louis. “How so?”

“Well,” Louis says slowly, “the last two lines, like the…” he hesitates for a moment, just long enough to second guess singing in front of professional, voice-of-a-sexy-rock’n’roll-angel Harry. Then he figures ‘fuck it’, he’s no Harry Styles, but at least he does know how to carry a tune, he’s a RADA student after all, has the singing classes and vocal coaching to prove it. “The ‘you’re all I want, so much it’s hurting’ part.”

He sings the lyric as well as he can from only one listen through, and tries not to read too much into the way Harry’s eyes bug out when he hears Louis sing.

“Lou,” Harry breathes, and he sounds awed, but, really, that can’t be right. “Fuck, Lou, your _voice_.”

“I’m sorry?” Louis shrugs sheepishly.

“No, no,” Harry says hurriedly, shaking his head almost wildly. “No! Fuck, your voice is so nice. Shit. Can you—can you sing it to me again, please? Like… like without holding back. Please, Louis? Please?”

“I—“ Louis says, slightly taken aback and with a raging blush if the way his cheeks are feeling warm is any indication.

“Please, Lou?” Harry pleads again, and really it’s the Lou that breaks Louis because how could he ever resist that?

“Okay,” Louis relents, “Okay, then. Just… like, just remember that I’m not the one who’s a popstar, okay? And like, promise you won’t laugh.”

“I swear,” Harry vows, squeezing Louis’ hand and smiling big. “I wouldn’t ever, I promise.”

“Right…” Louis breathes and nods, stalling slightly. He looks away from Harry, doesn’t think he can really look him in the eyes right now. Harry squeezes his hand again, and takes the other one of Louis’ in his as well. Louis takes a big breath and sings the two lines again, this time without holding back.

“Wow,” Harry breathes once Louis is done. “Wow, Lou, just… your voice is brilliant. It’s so, like, airy and light and… wow. I—I didn’t even know you could sing.”

Louis blushes again and refrains from using the predictable ‘there’s a lot you don’t know about me’ answer. Time and place, and all that jazz.  

“We do get training in both individual and choir singing at RADA,” Louis tells him, his insides ridiculously warm and fuzzy from Harry’s praise.

“RADA?” Harry questions, looking adorably perplexed.

“Oh, yeah, uh… my school? Royal Academy of Dramatic Art,” Louis explains, slightly amused when the confusion on Harry’s face doesn’t clear.

“You said you were studying drama at uni?” Harry says, frowning slightly.

“I am,” Louis defends with a laugh, “Or, well… I’m doing a BA in Acting at RADA.”

“But, Lou,” Harry says in awe, “That’s like… that’s like _so_ impressive. Like RADA is where Ralph Fiennes went, isn’t it? It’s really hard to get into, right? Like with auditions and everything. Like… you’re not just studying drama, you’re legit studying to become an actor, like you’re gonna make it big. Highly unrealistic dream, my _arse_!”

Louis laughs and shakes his head, slightly impressed and honoured that Harry can still remember such exact details from their first conversation. “It is pretty hard to get into, Harry, but like… there are loads of people who went to RADA who never made a splash in the business. So it’s a very real opportunity that I’ll just end up teaching, I’m not kidding. I guess we’ll see what happens.”

“I can’t believe I’m gonna have a RADA actor in my music video,” Harry says with more wonder than Louis thinks the statement really warrants.

“Not a RADA actor yet,” Louis protests with a shake of his head, “Just a student, really.”

“Still,” Harry insists, “Are you sure it won’t reflect badly on your career to involve yourself in a project like this?”

“Well,” Louis teases him, “I don’t know yet, do I? You’ve yet to tell what the video will actually be like.”

“Oh,” Harry’s mouth forms a comical ‘O’ as though he’d forgotten that he hadn’t yet shared those details with Louis. He makes to say something, but then visibly stops himself as he realises something else. “You still haven’t told me what was so special about the last part of the song that it made you lost to the outside world either, Tomlinson. Don’t think you can just distract me with your pretty voice and impressive credentials.”

“The last—?” Louis says slowly, trying to catch on to what Harry’s saying. “ _Oh_. Right. The last part. No, I just… I couldn’t help but think that it was kind of the answer to the rest of the song in a way, you know?” Louis asks, and then continues when Harry nods, prompting him to say more. “Right. I mean, it’s nothing deep, like. It’s just it’s a really beautiful song, and it sounds a lot like you’re singing it to someone and then the last two lines are like the answer to the rest.”

“Yeah…” Harry says, and then trails off, appearing deep in thought. “I like that interpretation. I think, yeah… So, it’s like… So like the should actually be sung by the one I’m singing to, yeah?”

“Well,” Louis says slowly, contemplating, “I mean it works like this too, it’s a really good song Harry. But it just struck me when I listened to it that it was like the first way I interpreted it, you know?”

“But, like… can you imagine?” Harry asks him, suddenly appearing very excited, sitting up straighter in the sofa, clutching Louis’ hands tightly, smiling big. “Would you do it?” he asks.

“Would I—“ Louis trails off, utterly confused, “What?”

“Would you sing the last part?” Harry asks excitedly, and when Louis opens his mouth to say something (though even he doesn’t quite know what yet) Harry hurries to speak again, “No, no, seriously, Lou, hear me out! Like obviously the studio version is already done, and I think they’d probably murder me if I scrapped that completely, but like I think I could probably convince them to let us re-do the ending for the music video, and… it would be _great_. Like—would you do it? Would you at least consider it?” Harry looks at him with big, earnest eyes. He looks like an excited puppy, as though he’s half considering climbing into Louis’ lap and licking his cheek. If he had a tail, it’d definitely be wagging.

“I—“ Louis hesitates because, well, because he doesn’t know. On one hand it’s not like it could hurt singing two lines for Harry’s music video, but on the other hand like… has Harry really thought this through? Louis thinks he’s starting to detect a pattern of Harry being very spontaneous with things regarding Louis, and Louis is starting to worry that maybe Harry’s gonna come to regret some of these decisions. Such as asking Louis if he’d like to sing in his music video, or offering Louis to appear in said music video, or, well, Louis himself.

“How about you tell me about this video of yours first?” Louis says, wanting to avoid actually answering the question for now. If it was just a spur of the moment question that Harry will eventually regret, Louis really wants to give him an opportunity to get out of it without it becoming too awkward.  More than anything Louis wants this music video to be absolutely perfect for Harry. It’s his coming out, after all. It’s now that he’ll be coming clean to the whole world about his sexuality, that he’ll have to withstand intense media scrutiny and people wanting to know everything there is to know about his situation. This video is going to absolutely sensational, and, well, Louis doesn’t want there to be any part of it that Harry will later regret.

“Fuck,” Harry says with a chuckle and a shake of his head. “I still haven’t told you anything about it, have I?” He laughs self-deprecatingly. Harry releases one of Louis’ hands and runs his own through his curls. Both of Louis’ palms are starting to get sweaty, but it doesn’t seem like Harry minds much. He’s not letting go of Louis’ other hand at any rate, and maybe it should be weird sitting here holding hands with a man he’s known for less than a full day, but just like everything else with Harry, it just feels natural.

“Well, the film is basically gonna center around you, me and a girl as being like this tight knit group of friends, and we’ll be doing all sorts of stuff together, you know, partying, having fun, eating dinner, talking a walk, watching some TV. Anything really. And sometimes it’ll be just the two of us and other times it’ll be just me and Sophia— that’s the girl, by the way. Sophia Smith, she’s one of my managers’ girlfriend so she’s been a friend for ages now. Anyway, most of the time it’ll actually be all three of us in scenes together. And, well, it’s gonna be ambiguous throughout most of who it is I’m singing about but then gradually it’ll get more and more intensely focused on you and me until, you know, there won’t be any doubt that I’m singing it to you. And obviously we want it to have a happy ending, so in the video we’re gonna find our happily ever after together.”

“Do we kiss?” Louis asks, a teasing lilt to his voice as his lips quirk up.

“Well, yeah,” Harry says, looking sheepishly. He tugs some curls behind his left ear and shrugs. “I hope you’ll be okay with that. It’s actually my favourite scene out of it all. Like the video is supposed to end with this scene of the two of us sitting in this room with a grand piano and I’ll be fake-playing—“

“Fake-playing?” Louis interrupts with a grin, because, well. How could he not?

“Shut up,” Harry blushes. He swats Louis’ arm and Louis can’t help but laugh. “I’m pretty good at guitar but I can’t play piano for shit. The director thought it would be more romantic at a piano than me sitting with my guitar, you know, so…”

“I can play,” Louis word-vomits, and then immediately wants to take back his spontaneous outburst because, well, great way to make it all about you, Tomlinson.

Harry, on the other hand, doesn’t appear to be the slightest bit annoyed though. “Really?” he asks, full of wonder, as though Louis is offering him the keys to a kingdom or something.

“Well, yeah,” Louis admits, feeling kind of silly and sheepish. He shrugs and scratches slightly at the fabric of the couch. “My grandma started teaching me when I was like eight or so, and I took some serious classes from I was sixteen to eighteen. Now I mostly play for fun sometimes, but I can still read notes and such.”

“You… you can literally do everything,” Harry says with a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief before sending Louis a big smile. His dimples deepen and Louis is torn between the need to kiss them and poke at them.

“I love that I’ve managed to give you that idea,” Louis chuckles. “But that is the farthest thing from true. I’ve just always liked performing, and when I was younger I loved musicals, so it made sense to me to, like, try my hand at playing and singing. I fancied myself a part of a band once too, but we were dreadful. But, anyway, wait until you see the state of my flat and you won’t think me so flawless anymore, I’m a proper slob. And I’m whiny and demanding and sometimes I can be really selfish. And I swear too much and have a bit of a temper and—”

“If you’re trying to get rid of me, Lou,” Harry grins, releasing the hand of Louis’ he’s still holding and bringing up his hand to circle around Louis’ wrist. “You’re not gonna succeed. I’d rather have you flawed than some sad Mary Sue.”

“Gary,” Louis can’t help but correct.

Amusedly, Harry nods. “Gary, then. My apologies.”

“No worries, popstar. We can’t all nearly have a BA degree.”

Harry snorts. “I don’t think your BA in Acting gives you much literary authority when it comes to knowledge about character types.”

“Whyever not, Harold,” Louis gasps, acting fake affronted. “I’ll have you know that I’ve read many great pieces of literature during my studies. Everything from Euripides to Schiller to Shakespeare and Beckett. I’m very well read.”

“I’m sure you are,” Harry placates. “But you can’t distract me, Louis. You can sing and you can play the piano, did you literally get handed to me by the gods?”

“What?” Did Harry smoke something funny before Louis got here that’s only just now starting to make its impact? Louis is honestly quite perplexed.

“Don’t you see?” Harry asks, as though it’s obvious. The same excitement that had been palpable in his voice before is back. “It makes the ending even more perfect, and it fits the song even better, if I’m edging towards you throughout the entire song, making it more and more obvious that it’s you I’m singing to, not someone ambiguous and not Sophia, but _you_. And then if I find you already by the piano, playing on it and then you sing the end, like the ‘you’re all I want, so much it’s hurting’ part because it really is an answer to the rest of the song, especially in context of the video. Don’t you see, Louis? It’s even more perfect than what we’d planned before. Will you do it? Please? Will you please, please sing and play in the last part of the video? We’ll add to your salary, of course.”

“No,” Louis hurries out, and then immediately backtracks once he sees Harry’s shocked face over his sudden outburst. “No, no, no, no,” he rushes out, as hurt starts to bloom in Harry’s features. Harry’s hand retreats from where it was rubbing circles into Louis’ wrist. “I mean—“ he amends, “There’ll be no adding to my salary, definitely not. But, okay, yeah, I’ll do it. But only if you’re sure it’s what you want.”

“Really?” Harry asks, pure unaltered happiness lighting up his features.

“Yes, really,” Louis confirms, and, god, what has he gotten himself into. No way he could say no to Harry, though, and even if he had, it would have only been for some twisted sense of sacrifice for Harry’s sake. He does kind of want to do it, a lot, he just doesn’t want to be the reason Harry’s video flops. “As long as you’re completely sure. And as long as it doesn’t interrupt the things you’ve already planned too much.”

“I won’t,” Harry vows quickly, and then amends, “Or, well, even if it does, it’s worth it.” He chuckles a bit, the laughter having a slight mellow sound to it. “In case you haven’t noticed, this video is rather special to me. They’ll probably do pretty much anything I’d like. My new team’s pretty good like that.”

“As long as you’re sure,” Louis repeats, wanting to make sure, one last time.

“I’m very sure,” Harry reassures him. “Really, Louis,” he says, moving forward slightly to cup Louis’ cheeks in his hands, cradling Louis’ face. “I’m very sure, babe. So very sure. And so very happy. I feel like the fact that you’ve entered this whole project has just made it a thousand times better. Already the video is better than I’d ever hoped it could be. So just… _thank you_. Okay?”

“Okay,” Louis parrots, slightly dazed from Harry’s words and the warmth of his hands on Louis’ face.

Harry giggles. “Okay,” He repeats, and then leans forward to kiss Louis thoroughly.

When he pulls back, Harry stays close enough to Louis’ face that he nearly goes cross-eyed from trying to have eye contact between them. “You hungry?” Harry asks, completely changing the subject.

For a moment Louis’ gaze strays to Harry’s lips because, well, honestly he’s all kinds of hungry. Pun fully intended. “Done with business and moving on to pleasure?” he asks Harry. His mouth curls into a smirk as he sees the way Harry’s eyes twinkle back at him.

“Thought it was about time,” Harry drawls. “I promised you food, didn’t I? I’ve already kept you up with this business talk much longer than I meant to. You must be starving.”

“Not starving,” Louis denies, “Just slowing dying from malnutrition, it’s no big deal.”

“It’s a very big deal,” Harry protests with a laugh, “Wouldn’t want you to wither away, you’re small enough as it is.”

“Hey!” Louis protests indignantly, shoving Harry lightly. “You take that back!”

“Never!” Harry shouts in the midst of a laugh as Louis tackles him backward on the sofa, landing so that he’s on top of Harry, straddling him.

“Take it back,” he repeats, so close to Harry that their noses nearly touch.

“Or what?” Harry counters defiantly, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Or,” Louis drawls with a smirk, “I might just do this.”

He leans down to connect their mouths, wasting no time before pressing his tongue into Harry’s mouth. Harry’s tongue meets his without preamble and it’s the dirtiest kiss they’ve shared by far. Louis’ hands glide up to fist themselves in Harry’s hair, tugging at it slightly, as he draws back from the kiss enough to bite at Harry’s lower lip before releasing it completely and drawing back.

They’re both panting slightly and Harry’s eyes appear both darker and hooded, as much of a teenage romance novel cliché as though it is. Louis becomes hyper aware of the fact that he’s genuinely straddling Harry then, and he hurries to slide off because, well, even though his self-restraining abilities apparently disappear when he’s around Harry for prolonged periods of time, there is still such a thing as too much, too fast.

“Lou?” Harry asks, adorably nervous, as soon as they’re both sitting upright on the sofa again. Louis wonders what he’s about to say, if maybe he finally did manage to do something wrong. “Things between us have moved quite fast,” he begins, and, well, _fuck_. “And don’t get me wrong, I’ve loved everything so far, _especially_ the kisses,” he hurries to say, settling some of the rapidness with which Louis’ heart is beating. “I just… would it be okay if we slowed everything a bit down from now on? Like just. I’d love to keep kissing, but it’d be nice if we like… got to know each other better before we… you know… did anything more.”

Louis does know, and he’s been thinking the exact same thing. He’s never moved this quickly in any other relationship ever, but it has never felt this natural either. That said, though, he doesn’t want either of them to ever end up regretting a decision they end up making rashly. If that means they wait a while before they take their physical relationship to the next level, then Louis is very, very okay with that.

“I agree,” he tells Harry gently. “It’s felt really natural everything between us this far – at least for me, anyway…” he says and pauses as Harry nods his agreement, “But I’d really like to get to know you properly now. We don’t need to rush into anything anyway. I mean, like… we’ve got time, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry breathes out, reaching up to tug a strand of hair behind Louis’ ear. “Yeah, we’ve got time.”

 

\--

 

Dinner turns out to be every bit as delicious as Harry had promised. It’s fairly simple, some pasty dish with creamy tomato sauce and chicken, but to Louis it tastes like perhaps the best thing he’s ever had. That Harry’s paired it with a fantastic salad and garlic bread doesn’t hurt either. Neither does the bottle of red wine the other man produces. All in all Louis feels both properly fed and properly wooed.

Even without the business stuff to discuss, conversation flows freely. It sounds like a cliché when he thinks it, but everything is just so _easy_ with Harry, comes so effortlessly. It feels, more times than not, as though they’ve known each other their entire lives rather than just a day. It’s nice, though, finally getting to know Harry properly, and especially getting to know Harry Styles, goofball extraordinaire, rather than Harry Styles, popstar and global teen sensation.

He learns that Harry’s got a sister named Gemma, and that he values his family hugely, tries to see them any time he can. He learns that Harry hates celery but loves cauliflower, and if he could only eat one thing for the rest of his life, it would be sticky brownies with sea salt caramel. He learns that when Harry was little he wanted to be a mermaid after having watched _The Little Mermaid_ with Gemma, and when he got older he’d wanted to open his own dog kennel. He ended up as a singer, obviously, but Louis jokingly reassures him that if everything goes wrong they can open their own kennel together. He learns that Harry despises horror movies but loves _Love Actually_ and especially Hugh Grant. He also learns that Harry is on a first name basis with Ian McKellan and David Beckham, and Louis only refrains from crying of jealousy when Harry casually promises to introduce Louis to them sometime.

Most importantly of all, though, he learns that Harry is as sweet and wonderful and _lovely_ as Louis had suspected, and that he and Harry click as well now when sober and decent, as they had when they were tipsily snogging in the back of Harry’s car last night.

There’s a part of him that’s watched too many rom-coms that’s shouting at him that this is too much, too fast and that clearly romantic relations can’t happen this quickly and this easily, that this is entirely too much of a fairy-tale and must surely soon burst. But then there’s a whole different part of him that tells him that it’s exactly the point that this isn’t a rom com and therefore communication is a thing that exists and a thing they’ve been rather good at, if Louis has to say so himself. It’s so nice, skipping the part where you’re constantly stuck wondering whether the other likes you back, whether it’s all one-sided, because Louis already knows it’s mutual – they’ve discussed it, after all.

He’s never felt this happy and this content early in a relationship, and it’s so nice. Everything about Harry, about this, about them is just… so nice.

After they finish dinner, they relocate to a different sitting room than the one they’d been in earlier. This one’s smaller, surrounded on nearly all of the walls by big, glass windows overlooking the garden like some inside gazebo. There’s fairy lights strung along the tone panes of the windows, illuminating the room softly, and the décor is mostly white with soft rose touches. The sofa in the middle of the room looks old, the wooden frame a deep mahogany colour and with its fabric of beautifully embroidered flowers in soft colours, it looks as though it once belonged in a Queen’s palace. The sofa is right in front of a fireplace, which Harry quickly moves to light as he tells Louis to make himself comfortable.

Louis settles into the sofa, which is both softer and snugger than he’d thought it would be by looking at it. Once Harry’s got the fire going, he tells Louis he’ll only be a moment more, and disappears out of the room. Louis snuggles further into the sofa and just can’t keep the smile off his face. He can’t believe he ever got this lucky, that he’s sitting here right now. He’d thought that when he got into RADA after the most gruelling auditioning process, that that had been the highlight of how lucky he could get in life, but this, now, _Harry_ might just be giving even RADA a run for its money.

Maybe it’s the endorphins talking, but, well. He’s happy, so sue him.

When Harry returns it’s with two steaming cups of tea and a Tupperware container of the aforementioned brownie. Harry plops down in the sofa next to him and hands Louis one of the mugs of tea. Like they’ve known each other their entire life and personal space isn’t a thing, Louis scoots closer to Harry, until they’re cuddled around each other, Harry’s arm draped over Louis’ shoulder and Louis’ head resting on Harry’s chest. The container with brownies is sitting in Harry’s lap, and Louis can see the golden caramel through the cracks in the brown dough, smell the heavy smell of chocolate and his mouth waters.

“They’re gonna blow your mind,” Harry warns him then, lifting the container slightly to offer Louis a slice of what looks and smells like literal chocolate heaven.

Louis refrains from voicing his otherwise stellar comeback of ‘bet I could blow your mind more’ in favour of taking one of the sinful looking brownies for himself. Priorities and all that. He sniffs it once, taking in the heavenly smell of dark chocolate, before biting into it and instantly feeling as though he must have reached nirvana. He might even have to rectify his answer of ‘pizza’ (stellar choice as though it is, with its unlimited possibilities in terms of varying toppings!) as his one meal for the rest of his life in exchange for this magic browning tastes as though as actual orgasm is happening in his life. Or well, not like the orgasms he usually tastes in his mouth, the brownies sharing no similarities to the taste of come, after all, but, well, metaphors and all that.

They finish off their brownies and mugs of tea in comfortable silence. It’s nice, actually, that as much as they proved at dinner that they have no trouble holding a steady conversation, they’re now proving that they’ve no trouble being silent with each other either. Louis can appreciate that a lot. He feels entirely content as he’s snuggled into Harry’s warmth, eating brownies and drinking tea that’s not quite strong enough to his liking, but he’s sure he can train Harry to get it right quickly enough. He’s happy that Harry seems to be as tactile as Louis is, that he too seems to revel in close contact. The fire crackling in the background is only the frosting on top of the cake. It’s the perfect ending to what Louis has definitely decided is their first date. He doesn’t think Harry’s gonna protest much to that.

When he’s licked off the last spot of melted chocolate from his thumb and drained the last bit of tea from his mug, he figures it’s probably time to get home. Especially if it’s as tricky with public transportation as Harry said. He doesn’t particularly want to, not when he’s warm and happy and comfortable in Harry’s arms, but, well, such is life; cold and unfair at times. Huh.

He moves to sit up but as soon as he begins to move away, Harry’s arm tightens around him and draws him back.

“Noooo,” Harry whines, sounding about as sleepy as Louis is starting to feel. “Stay here.”

Louis chuckles quietly, feeling as though any sound too loud might shatter the tranquillity of their current arrangement. “Got to, babe,” he says, “Gotta get home before the last tube passes by.”

“No,” Harry says, tightening his grip on Louis’ shoulder even further. “No, you should stay here.”

“Harry…” Louis says with laughter in his voice, unsure if Harry’s even awake enough to know what he’s offering.

“Not kidding,” Harry says petulantly, as though he could sense Louis’ hesitation and disbelief. His voice sounds gravely, and Louis quite thinks that between the warmth of the fire and comfortableness of Harry’s body, he could fall asleep right here, right now. By the sound of it, so could Harry.

“You said it yourself,” Harry continues, reminds him apparently. His thumb rubs Louis’ shoulder in small circles and Louis is so, so content. “This house is big enough for a family of six. I’ve got plenty of guest bedrooms. Please stay the night; it’s so late already. I’ll call my driver if you don’t want to, of course, but—there’s a whole room for you here if you’d like it, Louis. I’ll even make you breakfast in the morning.”

Louis twists around in Harry’s embrace until he can look at him proper and get eye contact. Harry looks entirely earnest. “Would that count for a second date?” Louis asks with a soft smile.

“Does this count as the first?” Harry counters, beaming big. His dimples are actual clefts in his cheeks and Louis loves them fiercely already, wants to constantly be the source of their appearance.

“Doesn’t it?” Louis asks, reaching up to run his thumb down Harry’s right cheek, pressing it into his dimple.

“First, second,” Harry says with the softest smile, the look in his eyes almost too tender for something so new as what is between them. “I can’t wait for us to reach the point where we don’t count anymore.”

Louis’ heart beats wildly, excitedly. He doesn’t know how he’s ever supposed to get it back into a normal rhythm. Maybe he’ll just have to accept it as it is now, even the rhythm of his heart forever changed by his encounter with Harry. He wonders if maybe Harry’s heart is singing Louis’ song too. If maybe they together form something quite unique.

“Me too,” Louis confesses instead of confessing his prior thoughts. Maybe that’s something to be shared on their fiftieth wedding anniversary, once he’s sure Harry won’t leave him in the dust when he discovers what a ridiculous sap Louis truly is. “Me too.”

He leans forward to press their lips together. Moving his hands up to cup Harry’s cheek. The other hand finds Harry’s, intertwining their fingers as they continue to place small closed mouthed kisses against each other’s lips.

Harry draws back after a few moments, kissing the corner of Louis’ lips twice and then pecks his nose once. “So you’ll stay?” he asks, his thumb running over the back of Louis’ hand.

“Yeah,” Louis nods, “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

 

\--

 

He falls asleep as soon as he closes his eyes in the beautifully decorated guest room Harry offered him, amongst a mountain of fluffy pillows, soft duvets and crisp sheets.

When he wakes up the next day it’s to the smell of frying bacon and when he makes his way into the kitchen, Harry’s waiting there with a kiss and a steaming cup of tea.

It’s the best morning Louis has had in ages.

 

\--

 

Things with Harry continue being excellent for the two weeks leading up to the shooting of the music video. They meet up as often as their individual schedules allow – both busy with their own things. Harry with finalising his album and sorting out his coming out on top of the massive amount of promotional work he’ll have to do for his release. Louis himself is busy with his final project at RADA. They’ve just starting doing the first read-throughs, and he both wants and needs to do well for this final production they’re putting on, their last chance to present themselves to potential future employers before they can call themselves graduates from the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art and have to suddenly stand on their own two legs and make their own way through life. It feels a bit like being a tiny bird leaving the nest for the first time, hoping its wings will carry it. Or like bungee jumping with a potentially faulty elastic around your waist and no safety net to speak of.

Still, they manage to make plenty time for each other. They go on several more dates, get to know each other even better, and it’s still every bit as good as it was on the first day. Now, though, there’s the added bonus of it starting to feel tangible. It’s wonderful. Louis gets to meet Niall and Liam too, Harry’s two managers and best friends, and he gets the whole story of Harry’s ex-management team and how they used to treat him, and how Niall and Liam started their own company with the sole purpose to sign Harry. They’re only a couple of months into it, but so far it’s going more than well, and they’re in the talks with several of Harry’s showbiz friends about signing them too. Apparently you don’t need to be a big name in the music business to get people to sign onto your management, as long as word gets out that you actually treat your clients right.

Louis loves Niall and Liam, and they seem quite fond of him too. Louis is sure they must have been both curious and apprehensive to meet the boy Harry not only chose to participate in the music video, but also started dating so abruptly, but once they all met they got along so splendidly one should have thought they’d been friends all their lives.

When Louis introduces Zayn to the other three, that meeting goes over smashingly great as well, and before the night is over, Zayn has tugged Niall and Liam’s business card into his trouser pocket with the promise to finally look into getting a management for his modelling career. Another meeting that goes smashingly well is when Harry and Louis team up to get Perrie and Zayn to meet.

Louis’ perhaps fondest memory from the last two weeks, though, is the afternoon he and Harry had spent in a studio together, recording the altered ending of _Something Great_. They’d done a clean and proper version first, a nice man called Julian Bunetta directing Louis through it all as he stood in the glass case with a pair of gigantic headphones on and sang the repeated line into a microphone. Afterwards, once Julian assured the both of them it was a wrap, and he’d gushed sufficiently about how cool it was going to be, he left the two of them alone there. Harry had turned recording on then and dragged Louis back into the booth along with him and a guitar. He’d goaded Louis into recording the entire song with him then, Harry playing on his guitar and singing the verses while Louis tried his best to join in for the chorus and took the last two lines. The result was a slightly gritty sounding acoustic track that Louis made Harry promise he’d send along to him. Louis loved it something fiercely already, if nothing else then because of the lovely memory attached to it.

Now that he’s sitting in a make-up chair at arsecrack of dawn, getting his face so thoroughly covered in foundation that he could probably scratch it off and sell it by the tube, he’s starting to feel a bit nervous. All this time spent with Harry leading up to this had meant that he hadn’t felt neither nervous nor apprehensive about what he was about to participate in. But now that the day is here and he’s already said hello to both the director and Sophia, Liam’s girlfriend, he’s starting to properly feel the nerves. He wonders if the foundation will start running down his face if he sweats too much from nerves. That’d be pretty.

It doesn’t help that Harry was whisked away from Louis forty minutes ago and he hasn’t seen him since. Even though the make-up artist Kayla is sweet and easy to talk to, and the hairdresser Lou too, he’d quite like Harry to come and calm his nerves. Preferably with a kiss. Or kisses, as in multiple of them, Louis would be quite susceptible to that, thanks.

As if Harry could hear his thoughts, he walks into Louis’ impromptu make-up room (he’s pretty sure it’s actually more of a storage room for the club they’re gonna be shooting in first, it sure has the sour smell of spilled booze to match) no more than two minutes later. Louis thanks the universe and swears that he will try to only use his powers of summoning for the greater good. Or something.

“Hi, babe,” Harry says, as he makes his way towards Louis. He looks radiant, clearly done being pampered himself. He’s wearing the most sinful outfit of tight black skinny jeans and a sheer black shirt with embroidered flowers on. His hair is styled into impeccable curls that fall down his shoulders, and, honestly, he looks good enough to eat.

“Heya,” Louis says back, and purses his lips to accept the kiss Harry is leaning down to give him.

“Oi!” Kayla interrupts them, startling them both enough to pull back. Louis instantly mourns the contact with Harry’s lips he never got to have. “Do you two think I spent an hour on your faces just to have you muck it up ‘cause you can’t control yourself? ‘Cause then you sure have another thing coming.”

“Sorry, love,” Harry smiles sheepishly at her, “We’ll be good.”

“Good,” Kayla says and gives Harry a satisfied nod before turning her attention to Louis. “Alright, Louis, you’re done now.”

“Which is why I’m here,” Harry interrupts, “They’re about ready to start shooting, if you are?”

“Born ready,” Louis quips back, turning his attention to Kayla and thanking her profusely for her expertise.

“No need to flatter me quite like that yet, Louis. I’ll be applying many more layers of foundations to your face before the day is over,” she laughs as she walks behind them, moving towards the dance floor that’s been packed with extras and camera equipment. Harry’s taken Louis hand as they walk, and Louis can already feel the nerves ebb away. He’s just gonna spend time with Harry, who cares if there’s a bunch of cameras filming them while they do. Playing someone who turns out to be in love with Harry Styles is going to be the easiest role he’s ever had to play.

And it turns out it very much is. Every scene they shoot in every different location comes so easy to the both of them it’s almost silly. The only times they get reprimanded is when it’s all too obvious how much they like each other, because, as the director reminds them time and time again, the person watching the video isn’t actually supposed to know whether Harry fancies Louis or Sophia until the end.

It’s fun too. It’s so fun, in fact, that Louis can’t even quite believe that he’s being paid to do this. Harry’s all smiles too, and, he tells Louis as they pause for lunch, having been at it for hours, it hasn’t ever been this fun for him before. Maybe just the fact that he’s finally getting to be true to himself helps with the mood of the whole filming process, but Louis likes to think that the fact that Harry gets to do it with him is a part of it too. If he were to ask Harry, he’s pretty sure he’d say so too.

They don’t shoot chronologically, of course they don’t, and Louis is even quite impressed that they seem to be able to cram it all into one day of shooting, but there’s nothing to say against efficiency when there’s a budget on the line. Somehow, though, they still end up shooting the last scene as the last thing.

This is his first proper solo shot, and he’d be lying if he said the nerves weren’t back on. They’re actually in Harry’s house, something which Louis hadn’t thought the other man would be much for, but he’d privately told Louis that he’d actually insisted on it when brainstorming about the plot of the video. It’s a small room holding only a big, beautiful piano that used to belong to Harry’s grandmother and which he has more out of nostalgia than actual skill. When Louis had questioned Harry about inviting his fans into the privacy of his own home like this, Harry’d confessed that he wanted this – which was essentially a coming out – to be as personal as possible, to be as true to himself as possible, and having it here felt right for him. Louis doesn’t think anyone neither could nor should object to that.

So, for the first time today he’s completely alone in front of the camera. There are no extras, no Sophia and, sadly, no Harry. It’s just him, a piano and a whole lot of filming gear and crew. Harry’s not left him completely, though, he’s standing right next to the director, smiling already as though he already knows that Louis is gonna be aces at this. Louis hopes he’s right. Harry’s presence behind the scenes simultaneously calms him and puts his nerves on edge. He doesn’t want to fuck this up - it’s Harry’s coming out, so he really, _really_ doesn’t want to fuck it up.

It’s not like he has to do a lot, and, really, the actual solo filming is over within 30 minutes. Harry told him earlier that they’ve made a special video edition of the song that for one includes Louis singing in the end rather than Harry, and also has a slightly longer instrumental piece between the last line Harry sings and Louis’ part. He knows that this is to allow a better progression into the last part of the video, and he also knows that this extended piece of instrumental bit is where all focus will be on him. It’s a bit nerve-wracking to have all the cameras pointed at him, and it’s an entirely different way of being _on_ than he’s used to from the stage.

In theatre, everything happens right in the moment, everything’s live and it requires an entirely different kind of attention. There’s the rush of stepping onto stage, the adrenaline in knowing that anytime anything and everything could fuck up – you could forget a line, a prop could malfunction, your co-actor could forget a line or a cue or anything really, and you’d have to be good enough at improvising to make the entire crowd think it’s all a part of the actual play. Louis loves improvising, lives for improvisation, adores the whole living-in-the-moment aspect of a live audience and only one chance at getting it right each performance. You never know what’s going to happen when you step on stage. Louis likes the rush of it, loves the stage. And then, of course, there’s the fact that theatre can move and touch people in ways that are quite extraordinary, has a presence that’s entirely unparalleled, that in many ways not even then fancy CGI and close-up shots of movie making can compare to.

This, filming, being in front of a camera, is all about re-dos and getting the right take, in an entirely different way than in theatre. There’s an attention to detail that’s unheard of on stage because the little twitch of an eyebrow would never bee seen by those on the back row and thus whatever the character is feeling needs to be portrayed differently. Film, however, has close ups and different angles and the ability to clip shots together in whatever way pleases. There are so many technical advantages that Louis doesn’t usually have at his disposal, and just the fact that they have to redo shots multiple times is mindboggling. Of course he’s gotten training in acting in front of a camera at RADA too, but for someone’s who’s mostly theatre trained, whose portfolio consists almost exclusively of roles on the boards, it’s still a foreign experience.

However, in his own humble opinion, he feels as though he takes to it like a fish to water. He’s always been quite versatile, and as much as he loves the rush and the “liveness” and the way he can always feel the audience’s response when doing theatre, there’s something about this, about being in front of the camera that calls to him too. Perhaps it’s his inner perfectionist coming out to play, liking the way something can be done over and over and over again until it’s _just_ perfect, the way he never has to go home only half-way satisfied with how something turned out. Maybe it’s just his affinity for the more impressionist acting where even the smallest twitch of an eye muscle can make all the difference and carry an entire scene’s emotional message. Whatever it is, he loves it.

Lip-synching while concentrating on playing the correct keys in time with the music blasting out around him, however, is much harder. He suddenly has a new appreciation for Harry and every other musician who has to film so many music videos. Harry’s filming with him now, though, which is nice overall. He hadn’t quite expected it to be so awkward though. It’s not Harry, though, it’s the fact that they have ten other people looking at them while Louis mouths ‘ _you’re all I want, so much it’s hurting_ ’. And it’s funny, really, because being a trained actor Louis has pretty much lost most of his ability to feel embarrassed or awkward in situations like this one where he’s playing a role, but it’s different now because—well, because he’s not actually playing a role after all, is he? It’s not exactly a hardship staring adoringly and longingly at Harry, nor is it a hardship to kiss him tenderly. It is, however, very, very different from playing a role. Louis feels exposed in an entirely different way, feels as though he’s standing in front of the crew naked, letting them see his every feeling, every thought. He doesn’t have the shield to hide behind that a role usually serves as, because he’s playing no one but himself. He kisses Harry back like they’ve been instructed to do, and it isn’t anyone but Louis being to one to kiss.

The last part of the music video, the one where he’ll be singing, has Harry entering the room, finding Louis there, practically serenading him at the piano. And of course there’s the kiss, the whole music video ending with a lip lock between the two of them. They do the kiss four times before the director is satisfied that he has it from enough angles to make it appear perfect in the final product. All things considered, Louis is quite excited to get to kiss Harry in private again and can’t quite wait until all the filming crew has been ushered out of the house. He thanks the people he’s worked with quickly, giving the director his contact details when he asks for it, saying Louis is a natural in front of the camera and that he’d quite like to work with him in the future. Louis feels positively giddy, but he’s also quite happy to have it all over with.

Harry, understandably, takes significantly longer saying goodbye to and thanking everyone, and Louis uses the time to rid himself of the thick layer of make-up on his face. It leaves his skin slightly red and tender, but he also feels much refreshed afterwards. It’s nice not feeling as stiff and sticky as the heavy layer of stage make-up made him feel.

He’s back in the piano room when Harry finds him. Louis hasn’t changed his clothes from the ones he was wearing for the filming yet (out of the four outfits he had to wear over the course of filming, this one is by far his favourite). The softness of the lilac jumper he’s wearing speaks of it being a piece of well-worn, loved clothing. Harry had told him earlier that it was actually his jumper, and that it had been chosen to appear in the video because of its near cult-like status in Harry’s fandom, where apparently it’ll _mean_ something that Louis is the one wearing it. Whatever that means. He can hardly say he’s complaining when it’s as comfortable as it is and smells like Harry. Double win, really.

He seats himself on the piano bench and runs his hands over the keys gently. It’s a beautiful piano. Harry’d had a professional over to tune it a few days ago. It hadn’t been used in years before that, Harry had said, and it had left its marks on the instrument. The first time Louis had tried using it, it had been so wonderfully off key it had had Harry laughing until he had tears in his eyes. Now, though, it plays like a dream, in Louis’ humble opinion. He presses his fingers down one after one, mimicking the cords for _Something Great_ that he’s memorised. It’s a beautiful piano song. Amidst acting and studying and trying not to fall behind and be forgotten amidst all the talent at RADA, Louis had kind of put piano on the back burner. It’s not that he’d ever expected to make any kind of living off of it, he isn’t _that_ good after all, but still it had been one of those things he’d had to give up when he put all his chips on acting. He’d all but forgotten how much he loves to play.

Lost in the music, he doesn’t notice Harry entering the room, before the other man is wrapping his arms around Louis from behind, kissing his neck chastely.

“Hi, love,” Louis murmurs as he stops playing. He turns his head to capture Harry’s lips in a proper kiss. He takes Harry’s bottom lip between his own, sucking at it slightly.

When Harry pulls back it’s with an audible smack that makes them both giggle. Harry leans in to place a quick dry kiss on Louis’ lips before his mouth turns down into a pout.

“You didn’t have to stop playing,” he says, “I love it when you play.”

“Think I’d rather be kissing you, though,” Louis says, before leaning in to capture Harry’s lips again, as though he’s testing his theory even though of course he already knows that he’s right. He pulls back after a few moments, and puts on his faux-serious concentration face, putting his fingers to the piano and playing a few notes. “Nope,” he announces once the last g major chord has finished ringing. “Snogging you is much more fun.”

Harry giggles, pressing his face into Louis neck from where he’s still standing behind him, crouched down uncomfortably.

“Come sit, Haz,” Louis says, his voice soft and fond, curling around Harry’s newly acquired nickname as though it’s the most precious word in Louis’ personal language. Maybe it is. At any rate, Louis is willing to bet it will be soon.

Harry does as Louis asks, moving around the piano bench to squeeze in next to Louis on it. It’s a tight fit, but there’s no record of Louis ever complaining about being all up in Harry’s space for good reason. The closer, the better, really. Louis puts his arm around Harry, pulling him into his side and he can’t possibly keep the smile off his face when Harry sighs and sags into him.

“You good?” Louis asks, moving his head side-ways to press a kiss against Harry’s temple.

Harry hums contently in reply. “M’good,” he says, voice slightly muffled against Louis’ shoulder where he’s resting his head. “Tired. Happy. _So_ happy.”

“Yeah?” Louis asks, warmth swirling in his belly.

“So, so happy,” Harry confirms, lifting his head slightly to look Louis in the eyes. “Today went well, right?” Harry voice is timid, almost as though he’s afraid Louis will have a different answer for him than an agreement.

“So well,” he confirms with a smile.

“You were so good,” Harry murmurs, planting a kiss on Louis’ jaw. He sounds awed. “I mean,” he rectifies, “I _knew_ you would be, but like… seeing you in front of the camera, seeing you on the screen, it was… _wow_. I’m so glad I met you, so glad I got to have you in this, _share_ this with you.”

Louis holds Harry closer against his chest and presses his smile into Harry’s curls. His chest feels as though a supernova has gone off inside of it, unbearably hot and all consuming. It threatens to devour all of him, and he would let it, would let it so happily. Would let _Harry_. He knows he must be blushing, hasn’t quite learned how to take a compliment from Harry yet.

“How do you think your fans will react?” Louis asks then, wanting to deflect from Harry’s praise. He’s sure that if he doesn’t change the subject, Harry will continue praising him until Louis’ cheeks will be hot enough to fry an egg on, and that would be neither sexy nor sanitary, so better not. “It won’t like… scandalise or make them sad or anything, right?”

“I hope—“ Harry starts, but then cuts himself off before rectifying: “I _think_ that most of them will be really supportive. Like… I know the media loves projecting the image that all my fans are twelve-year-old girls, but there’s actually such a huge diversity amongst them, right? And it’s wonderful. Like, of course I have really young fans, and of course I have fans who’d like to marry me, but it’s not that those two necessarily go hand in hand, though. I think that any real fan of mine will be there regardless of who I’m shagging or who I love. And there’s already a pretty huge part of my fan base who’ve been questioning my sexuality for a long time now… I mean, I think that’s why it was suddenly such a huge deal that there was a boy in one of my instagram pictures, you know? That’s why they all thought I was being covert when I tagged your picture as ‘beautiful things’, that I was like showing you to them all, when really I hadn’t even really noticed you in the background.”

Louis clutches his heart in mock-hurt. “You wound me,” he says, pouting slightly.

“No,” Harry laughs, tugging Louis’ hand away from his chest. “God, when they pointed you out I couldn’t get my eyes off of you. You were just a tiny, blurry person on a random photo of mine, but you were so captivating. And, like, once I’d seen your twitter, it was like I’d taken a tumble down the rabbit hole,” he laughs kind of self-consciously and buries his head in Louis’ neck, mumbling the next words into it. “I was genuinely contemplating if there was any way I could contact you without seeming creepy. I don’t know what it was, I can’t explain it, you—you were just so fascinating to me. Still are, even now that I know you. You never cease to captivate me, enthral me. If I hadn’t met you at that party, I probably would have ended up DM’ing you on twitter or something under the disguise of apologising for the havoc I’d caused your life.”

“Babe,” Louis says, voice more choked up than he’d like to admit. He doesn’t even know what to say, is, for once in his life, completely bereft of words. He’s slightly scared to open his mouth again, worried what might come tumbling out, that it might be something premature and silly like _I love you_. Not that loving Harry would be silly at all. There’s not a single doubt in his mind that that’s where he’s heading, that he’s slowly and steadily falling in love with Harry and he very much thinks it’s mutual. But even still, he’s not naïve enough to think that he can love someone after only two weeks, and he doesn’t want to in any way belittle what a big thing it will be once he is sure, once they’ve both gotten there. It isn’t some silly teenage crush, this thing between them, he’s sure of it. This is more of a real deal than anything has ever been. Bigger and better than even the most sappy romantic comedy. He’s quite sure that this is the kind of to-be-love that one would start wars over, some kind of twisted modern-day Helen of Troy minus all the heart-ache, love triangle and like… tragic endings. He’d sure go into battle for Harry, no doubt there.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand, though,” Harry muses, saving Louis from having to risk word vomiting all over him. “Like how my fans found out your identity? I mean, like… they are like a tiny FBI operation, it’s proper impressive, but even still… there are millions of boys in London, how did they find _you_? Do you have a picture on RADA’s website or something?”

“No,” Louis shakes his head with a small laugh. He remembers how much he’d cursed Martha Cunnings’ name back when all of this has started, but now he can’t find it anything but amusing. Maybe he should even send her a fruit basket or something as a thank you. If fruit baskets are still a thing, mind. Have fruit baskets ever been a thing? Like outside of American TV shows and farmer’s markets? Fuck if Louis knows. Fact is that without her Louis probably never would have gotten together with Harry, and, well, to be frank he can’t quite imagine his life if he hadn’t. It should perhaps be scary that one person could so profoundly change every aspect of Louis’ day-to-day life and yet it feels the very opposite of frightening. It feels new, and exhilarating and a little bit intimidating. But most of all it feels safe, and right, and just perfect.

“No,” he repeats, “It was actually one of my sister Lottie’s friends. She’s a big fan of yours apparently, and, like— Lottie explained this to me, but apparently she has some kind of blog? And she recognised me and made this big post about it—Lottie said she did it for notes, whatever that means… like do people send her notes then, I mean, I don’t get it? I--” He pauses when Harry stifles a laugh beside him, raising an eyebrow.

Harry moves his hand to cover his mouth, as if physically trying to hold in the last remaining giggles. “I’m sorry,” he says, words mumbled and muddled by his hand. “You’re so fucking cute.”

Louis growls like the majestic lion that he is. “I am not cute,” he declares, playfully barring his teeth, which ironically only serves to make Harry drop his hand from his mouth and laugh louder. “I am a majestic lion,” Louis states, enjoying the mirth dancing in Harry’s eyes.

“My Simba,” Harry says, more fond than the conversation really deserves considering the level of ridiculousness. Still, it’s them, and if there’s anything they do, it’s fit. They’ve fitted together perfectly from the very beginning. It’s both exhilarating and scary, but if there’s one thing Louis knows from being a performer, it’s that it isn’t necessarily a bad idea to be a bit scared. It means you’ve got something to lose, and that you’re less likely to fuck it up. He doesn’t ever want to fuck it up with Harry.

“Only if that makes you my Nala,” Louis murmurs, leaning closer, his eyes drifting towards Harry’s lips unconsciously.

“Yes,” Harry breathes, their lips so close that Louis feels Harry’s on his as they move to form words. “Of course. Always.”

“Good,” Louis says with a smile, before closing the last bit of distance between them. They’re still both smiling when their lips meet. It’s nothing short of everything Louis has ever wanted in life, no fucking hyperbole present at all.

The kiss starts out slow, the way they’re practically grinning into each other’s mouths making anything else impossible. This is the culmination of a long, brilliant but also hard day, and Louis would be lying if he said that after having been surrounded by a camera crew and Sophia, lovely as she is, all day it isn’t nice to be just him and Harry. He moves his hands up to tangle in Harry’s curls, cradling his skull in his hands. Harry’s hands cup Louis’ cheeks, his thumbs digging into Louis’ cheeks, prompting Louis to open his mouth for Harry.

When their tongues meet it goes from sweet to dirty in approximately as much time as it takes a smile to appear at Harry’s face when he sees Louis, which is to say: none at all. Louis licks into Harry’s mouth, revelling in the wet smoothness of Harry’s mouth and tongue. Louis’ hands tighten in Harry’s curls and try pulling the other man closer. He doesn’t think they could ever get close enough even if he were to take up residence inside of Harry. They’ve snogged plenty over the last two weeks they’ve known each other, so long that sometimes Louis has left Harry’s place with almost sore, swollen lips, prompting more questions than he really wanted to answer from his classmates. He hasn’t told anyone but Zayn about Harry, not even Lottie or his mum. He knows he has to, especially now that there’ll be a music video with him in it out in only two months. He just hasn’t wanted to yet, because it was still too new, too much theirs to really share with anyone yet. They’ll do it soon, he knows, the both of them to each of their families. Louis can’t wait to tell Lottie that he’ll be able to get her those backstage tickets for free and hopefully a lifetime of meet and greets with Harry.

For now, though, he’ll enjoy having Harry entirely to himself.

“Lou,” Harry murmurs into Louis’ mouth, “Fuck, Lou, can we—can I— _fuck_ , Lou.”

And somehow Louis knows exactly what Harry’s asking for, what Harry _wants_.

“Thought you wanted to wait?” he asks, pressing kisses against the corner of Harry’s mouth between his words.

“I think…” Harry starts before pausing to kiss Louis back when their mouths meet. The kiss doesn’t last long this time though before Harry is pulling back, their lips separating with a loud smack. Harry’s breath is heaven slightly, and he sounds sort of breathless when he continues. “I think maybe we’ve done enough waiting?”

He phrases it like a question, giving Louis every chance to disagree. Harry would accept it, too, would back off immediately with no questions asked, Louis has no doubt. But luckily there’s nothing Louis wants more than to finally get to shag Harry tonight. He’s glad that they’ve chosen to wait until now, glad that they, after the slightly unconventional start of their relationship, ended up taking things slow, got the opportunity to get to know each other a bit better before jumping into yet another physical aspect of their relationship. They’ve done the filming to the music video now, though, and that feels like a threshold they’ve crossed, an entry into a new beginning, yet another chapter together.

“Yeah,” Louis agrees, stroking his hand down Harry’s cheeks as his lips widen into a brilliant smile. “Yeah, I think so too.”

“Good,” Harry smirks, eyes flittering between Louis’ eyes and his lips. “God, Lou,” Harry’s hand comes down to lay on Louis’ thigh, stroking along the inseam and dangerously close to Louis’ clothed cock. “Fuck, you’re so stunning. Love seeing you in my clothes.”

Harry leans down to attach his mouth to Louis’ jaw, kissing wetly across it as his hand continues moving closer and closer to Louis’ dick.

“Harry…” Louis half says, half moans. Everything Harry’s doing feels so good, feels better than it ever has just for the sole reason that it’s Harry who’s doing it. _God_.

“Been wanting to do this ever since we met,” Harry confesses, mouth only briefly leaving Louis’ skin. “God, even before then. Want you so much right now, it’s driving me crazy.”

“In here?” Louis questions, head feeling kind of woozy and overwhelmed. “You don’t even want like a bed or—“

“No,” Harry interrupts before drawing back, looking Louis in the eyes. “No, I want it _right here._ Just want _you_.”

Harry’s bold confession startles Louis slightly, but only for the briefest of moments before the world of possibilities Harry’s just presented overwhelms Louis. Fuck, okay, if Harry wants it here, Louis is definitely not one to say no. He’d take Harry anywhere, really, as long as he really gets to have him.

Louis quickly fists his hands in Harry’s shirt, and then promptly swings his leg over Harry’s so that he ends up sitting in Harry’s lap, straddling him. Before Harry can do anything but let out an ‘oof’ of surprise, Louis has attached their lips back together, pulling Harry as close as possible and holding him in place. They snog open-mouthed, tongues meeting and sliding against each other, as Harry’s hands move down to cup Louis’ bum, pressing him down harder against Harry’s crotch.

Louis’ dick is starting to fatten up in his own jeans, and he can already feel Harry’s too from where he’s pressing up against him. It’s not that he hasn’t gotten the impression that Harry’s rather well-endowed through any of their many make-out sessions yet, it’s just a little bit different when he knows that he’ll get to touch that dick within the immediate future and that he might even get to have it inside him soon too. Fuck.

He ruts down against Harry’s crotch, can’t help himself, and it does nothing but add fuel to his fire when Harry moans deeply into Louis’ mouth.

“What do you want?” Harry gasps once they part slightly to catch their breath, both of their lips wet with their intermingled spit.

“You,” Louis answers simply, because, really, he’ll take Harry in whatever way he can have him.

“You’ve got me,” Harry vows, leaning in to mouth at Louis’ neck, as though having his lips detached from Louis for too long is a terrible travesty. “Any way you want me.”

“Fuck,” Louis whimpers, tilting his head sideways to grant Harry even better access to the dip where Louis’ neck meets his shoulder that Harry’s currently sucking a love bite into. “Fuck, H, you’re already making me feel so good.”

Harry bites down at the newly formed bruise, and, fuck, Louis has never had a pain kink or anything, really, but there seems to be literally nothing Harry can do that in any way that will feel even remotely like a turn-off to Louis.

“I can make you feel even better,” Harry says as he draws back, finding Louis’ eyes. It should sound like an awful line from a cheap porno, but it comes out so sincere that Louis can do nothing but lean in to kiss Harry sweetly.

Harry’s thumbs dig into Louis’ arse cheeks, and Louis tightens his knees against Harry’s hips, and the kiss goes from sweet to dirty in no time. Right now, he doesn’t want to ever leave this position, if he’s honest.

“Want me to blow you?” Harry asks into Louis’ skin, nibbling along his jaw and down his neck. “Please? Please, Lou? I’ve wanted to get my mouth on you for ages now.”

“You’ve—“ Louis gasps as Harry’s mouth closes around his Adam’s apple, sucking hard. “You’ve only known me for two weeks.”

“ _Ages,”_ Harry growls, tightening his grip on Louis’ bum. And, fuck, Louis doesn’t think he’s been this turned on maybe _ever_. He can’t even articulate a proper answer, just tilts his head further back to give Harry’s mouth better access and moans with no shame.

“Can I?” Harry asks, pausing his ministrations long enough to look up, catching Louis’ eyes as he waits for his consent. Harry’s eyes are big and earnest, his pupils blown wild. He looks gorgeous; he always looks gorgeous but perhaps now even more so.

“Please,” Louis breathes out, “Anything.” _Literally_ , anything. Louis doesn’t think that there’s anything he wouldn’t let Harry do to him right now.

Three things happen in rapid succession then, so fast that Louis almost can’t comprehend in all in his slightly dazed state with his lust-sluggish mind.

 _One_ : Harry leans towards Louis, connecting their lips hard for a brief moment, before pulling back.

 _Two_ : Harry’s grip on Louis’ bum tightens, and the next thing Louis knows, Harry’s lifted him up and put him down on top of the piano keys, like he weighs nothing at all. It produces a comically loud noise that only fifteen random piano keys being pressed down at once can, and Louis would probably laugh if he weren’t so ridiculously turned on just by Harry lifting him around like it’s no hardship.

 _Three_ : Harry drops to his knees in front of Louis.

Harry’s hands work quickly and efficiently to open the button of Louis’ jeans, wasting no time before he pulls both Louis’ jeans and pants down, freeing his cock. Louis places his hands on the keys next to him and lifts himself up enough for Harry to be able to slide the jeans down. Every time he as much as moves even a little, the piano produces yet another melody that should never have been played, and half the time neither of them can keep back the giggle it inspires.

It’s an odd thing, laughing during sex. It’s definitely not something he’s used to, though in hindsight that does make his previous sex life sound rather dull. There’s just a level of comfortableness to their being together that isn’t usually there at the first time Louis sleeps with someone. It’s fascinating and brilliant all at once. And it’s hot too, the fact that they can laugh like this together while on the brink of shagging. It’s a conundrum like no other, because surely it shouldn’t be. Surely the truly comic noises the piano makes every time they shift even a little ought to break the mood, but for some reason or other, it just works. Everything with Harry just works. Laughing to the sound of the worst melody ever produced on a piano as fine as this shouldn’t be this arousing, but it is.

It should be embarrassing how hard Louis is after only a bit of snogging, but the way Harry’s hands had covered all of Louis’ arse and the anticipation of getting Harry’s mouth on him has proved too much for Louis’ dick not to react. Really, he thinks, when he looks down at Harry on his knees and takes in the way Harry’s eyeing Louis’ cock hungrily, who can really blame him.

As soon as Harry’s thrown Louis’ jeans carelessly behind them, Louis is left bare and exposed from the waist down, wearing only Harry’s big purple jumper. The knit is bunched up over Louis’ dick. The jumper would be long enough to cover Louis’ hard cock, if he were to pull down the fabric, though it would be sure to tent it comically. He grabs a fistful of the fabric with each of his hands, ready to pull it over his head when Harry stops him with a choked up sound. Louis pauses his actions and looks at him expectantly.

“Don’t,” Harry says, licking his lips as his gaze flits from Louis’ cock to his eyes. “Fuck. Keep it on, yeah?”

“M’gonna get sweaty,” Louis protests weakly, though really he won’t mind much if the thought of him in Harry’s clothes puts the kind of look in Harry’s eyes that’s there now.

“Love you sweaty,” Harry replies simply, and his eyes seem to linger longer and longer on Louis’ cock and less and less on Louis’ face. Louis feels self-conscious then because, fuck, Harry’s still fully clothed and here Louis is sitting with his bare arse directly on the keys of Harry’s grandma’s old beloved piano. It’s not exactly sanitary, and something tells him that the keys must no doubt be digging into the flesh of his bum, and that the marks that they’ll leave behind won’t be particularly sexy either. God, trust Harry to pick a spot like this to be their first sexual encounter. Fuck. Louis has a great body, though, and he knows it, isn’t one to get ashamed of it usually, and he refuses to let this be the start of that. He takes a hold of the knitted jumped and rucks it further up so that it gives Harry a better view of his cock and lower stomach.

“God, Lou,” Harry breathes out, talking directly to Louis’ dick. “Fuck, you’ve got the prettiest dick. It’s so fucking thick. Bet you taste so good,” he’s running his large, warm hands up and down Louis’ thighs, gripping them tighter and tighter as though he’s getting himself ready to do something other than just stare at Louis’ prick. He looks up at Louis then, pupils blown, and the look in his eyes is kind of wild. His curls are a mess from Louis’ hands fisting in them when they kissed, and yet Harry looks so beautiful, more beautiful than ever, maybe, here on his knees in front of Louis.

“Is this okay?” Harry asks, maintaining eye contact with Louis as though Louis hasn’t already given him permission several times over with his words and his actions.

“Please,” Louis moans, the very look of Harry making pleasure curl in his lower abdomen. Fuck, Harry hasn’t even touched him yet, and it’s already the hottest encounter of his fucking _life_.

It seems then, that as much as Harry values consent, he doesn’t need more than that one word from Louis, because the next thing Louis knows, he has Harry’s lips wrapped around the head of his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” Louis grounds out, his legs moving up to rest on Harry’s shoulders, boxing him in. Harry gives a small lick, the tip of his tongue prodding the slit of Louis’ cock. Louis’ toes curl and he throws an arm up to cover his eyes. Already he feels wound tight, as though he’s only seconds from unravelling completely. Harry has hardly even gotten started on the blowjob, and, like, Louis has had some good blowjobs in his life, but just… this, just the fact that it’s Harry, really makes all the difference. Makes it so, so infinitely better.

Encouraged by Louis’ reaction, Harry’s confidence seems to grow, and he moves his hand up to grip the base of Louis’ dick tightly, prompting yet another moan from Louis accompanied by a symphony of sounds from the piano as Louis’ bum shifts slightly. Then, the next thing Louis feels is the wet, hot velvet-y sensation of Harry’s mouth taking the head of Louis’ cock into his mouth. Louis’ hands move to fist in Harry’s hair without thinking twice about it, but luckily the only reaction he gets from Harry is a moan and him taking in even more of Louis’ cock into his mouth.

It feels amazing. Everything from Harry’s lips wrapped tightly around his dick, to the way his tongue is pressing flat against the vein on the underside of it, to the way Harry’s hand is holding Louis’ cock steady as he licks and sucks. It’s all so overwhelming that Louis almost doesn’t know how to deal with the feeling of it all. Harry starts bobbing his head up and down slightly, taking more and more of Louis’ cock into his mouth every time he slides down. He gives himself to the task fully, concentrating only, it seems, on taking in more and more of Louis’ cock every time he moves down. He’s sucking cock like it’s his everyday job, as though it’s something to win prizes at, as though he’s going for an Oscar or a Grammy in cock sucking. He’d win it too, Louis is pretty sure, is pretty sure Harry could win anything he’d put his mind to. _Especially_ this.

“ _God_ , Harry,” Louis moans, his hands running through Harry’s hair, stroking it, occasionally pulling a bit because Harry seems to like it so much. “Fuck, it feels _amazing_ , babe. You’re so good. _So_ _good_. Fuck, the _fucking_ best, you are,” he babbles, having no control over what he’s saying to be honest, but it seems that it doesn’t matter much because the more Louis talks, the more he praises Harry, the more Harry seems to concentrate on the blowjob at hand, on making it good for Louis.

He keeps going further down on Louis’ cock, until his nose is pressing against the stripe of exposed skin of Louis’ abdomen underneath where the jumper is bunched up. Harry’s lips are wrapped around the base of Louis’ dick, and the head of it nudges against the back of Harry’s throat. Louis isn’t sure he’s ever felt anything like it, and he has been deep throated before, just… just not like this. Not by Harry. God, how is it that positively _everything_ is just better with Harry?

He gets eye contact with Harry and the look of him is nearly enough to send Louis over the edge right then and there. There are tears pooling in Harry’s eyes, his pupils as wide as ever, and he looks utterly… debauched, for the lack of any other word to describe it. He looks incredible, really, and the fact that it’s Louis himself who made Harry look like that means _everything_. Louis brings down one of his hands to cup Harry’s cheek, pressing his thumb into his cheeks to feel the outline of his cock in Harry’s mouth, before moving it up to wipe at the corner of his eye, gathering the moisture collecting there. He grabs onto the sleek black wood of the piano with his other hand, gripping it hard as he tries to maintain some semblance of control, tries not to get too lost in everything. He wants to remember this, wants to keep that slight semblance of control he still possess, needs to make sure he doesn’t lose himself completely to the pleasure of Harry’s mouth, tempting as though it absolutely is.

Louis feels so indescribably hot, as though he’s not actually in Harry’s London house at all but rather on some tropical island, the sun beating down on him. It’s the jumper, of course. Or, well, a combination of the jumper and the fact that he’s having sex with Harry, but still. He’s hot. Just as he’d predicted, he’s starting to sweat, little drops forming at his temples and sliding down the side of his face. Somehow, though, it only serves to make everything so much more arousing. He’s starting to be able to feel the tell tale pull of an orgasm, knows that surely he must only be moments and a well timed flick of Harry’s tongue away from oblivion, but, fuck, he doesn’t want to come like this. He doesn’t.

He wants to come with Harry inside of him.

“Harry,” he half gasps, half moans, “Harry, Harry, stop.”

At Louis’ request, Harry immediately pulls off, a strand of saliva hanging between his lips and Louis’ spit covered cock. Harry looks concerned and so, so beautiful on his knees in front of Louis, eyes blown wide and filled with worry.

“Are you—“ Harry starts, his voice rough, and he pauses to cough twice before speaking again. “I’m sorry, did I—“

“No!” Louis cuts him off quickly, cupping Harry’s head in his hands. “God, you’re amazing, Harry. That was, shit, maybe probably the best blowie I’ve ever gotten. I just… I kinda want you to fuck me now. I mean… if you want that too?”

“God,” Harry breathes out, resting his forehead against Louis’ inner thigh. “Fuck, Lou, I thought you weren’t enjoying yourself.”

Louis gestures vaguely towards his cock, which is still so hard it nearly hurts. “I’m enjoying myself probably too much,” he states, “I want you to enjoy yourself too. Don’t you want to fuck me?”

Harry lifts his head Louis’ thigh and gets up from the floor a little stiffly. He takes Louis’ face between his hands and kisses him hard, before taking a hold of Louis’ hand and bringing it down to cover his jeans covered cock. The hard outline of Harry’s cock is clear through the fabric, and Louis can’t help but squeeze Harry’s cock, making the other man moan in surprised pleasure.

“I’m enjoying myself, babe,” Harry says, pressing his groin against Louis’ hand. The piano continues making noises whenever Louis shifts position even the slightest, but at this point he’s just learned to ignore it, to be honest. It’s become a kind of accompanying soundtrack to their first time together. Maybe they should have recorded it. It would be like a love symphony of sorts. “So much,” he mouths along Louis’ neck, leaving wet, hot trails along Louis’ skin behind him. “Love sucking you off, baby, could do it for fucking ever. Never wanna take my mouth off of you again. Wanna fuck you too, though. God, so much. Gonna give it to you good, aren’t I, darling? Gonna make you feel so good, I promise, just as good as you make me feel,” he thrusts up against Louis’ hand again, as though he’s trying to prove a point. He’s straining painfully against the fly of his jeans, and, well, Louis thinks the point comes across quite nicely, yeah.

Louis is literally two sentences of Harry’s version of dirty talk away from coming all over the both of them, so, really, time is kind of the essence here. He fists his hands in the front of Harry’s jumper rather desperately.

“Get your fucking kit off,” Louis pants, “Haven’t got all day, have we? Wanna ride you.”

“Fuck,” Harry says, as though he doesn’t know what else to say. “Okay, yeah, okay,” he babbles dumbly as he lets Louis pull the jumper up over his head, exposing his bare chest. And then while Louis is busy trying to get a grip on himself and stop his salivation over Harry’s toned chest and visible v-lines and the fucking _tattoos_ , Harry hurries out of his skin tight jeans, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to get naked. It’s heart-warming to see that Harry seems as eager as Louis feels.

In the blink of an eye, Louis is suddenly the one who’s overdressed, Harry standing in front of him completely naked. He’s beautiful. Stunning, really, and so, so hot. His body is like a finely sculptured piece of art, as though he’s been crafted to be actual perfection. Louis didn’t think it was possible for his cock to get any harder, but it certainly seems to be when he takes in Harry in front of him. His eyes flit down to Harry’s cock, and his mouth salivates a bit at the thought of getting to blow Harry at some point. Like the rest of him, Harry’s cock is something akin to perfect. It’s long and thick, and hard, practically purple at the head, and if Louis had had any doubts over whether Harry’d been enjoying himself or not, they’re gone now. It’s as though time’s suspended while Louis takes in Harry’s naked form, and Harry just lets him. Just stands there open and vulnerable, and lets Louis look until he feels like his eyes know every part of Harry’s body and it’s time for his hands to catch up.

“You’re stunning, love,” Louis breathes out, looking up to meet Harry’s eyes. Harry looks happy and shy, a complete contrast to how calmly and openly he’d allowed Louis to take him in. “Beautiful.”

Harry takes a step closer, stepping in between Louis’ legs, their bare thighs touching. “So are you,” he tells Louis, making Louis feel warm and content and _safe_. Harry bends his head slightly to capture Louis’ lips in a kiss while Louis reaches his hand down to take a hold of Harry’s cock. It’s warm and solid in his palm, and he tugs at it slowly, mindful of the dryness of his drags. Harry moans into the kiss and his shoulders shudder slightly under Louis’ other arm, his palm resting against Harry’s neck as their tongues slide together.

“You got lube?” Louis asks as he draws back from Harry in order to breathe. “A condom?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry nods, taking a step back, making Louis regretfully release his cock. “Got some here.” He reaches for his discarded jeans, pulling out a packet of lube and a condom from the back pocket.

“Someone was expecting to get laid?” Louis asks, a teasing lilt to his tone.

“Someone was _hoping_ they’d be lucky and privileged enough to get to have sex with you,” Harry answers with a grin, stepping up in front of Louis again to give him a quick kiss. “How do you want to do this, babe?”

Louis pretends to contemplate for a second. “Well,” he says coyly, “I want to ride you on that piano bench. I want to ride you fast and hard, but first I want you to sit down and look while I prep myself. Just watch as I slide my fingers into myself, pleasure myself, and the only body you can touch is your own. You better not come, though, or I’ll be very cross. How’s that sound?”

Harry makes a choked up sound and buries his head in Louis’ shoulder. “God,” he breathes into Louis’ skin. “Do you have any idea what you do to me? Get me so fucking hot. What did I do to deserve you?”

“Think you took a creeper shot of me in Hyde Park, mate,” Louis whispers conspiratorially, turning his head side-ways to kiss Harry’s hair. He loves the way they’re able to go from hot to sweet, from urgent to having all the time in the world in no time at all. As far as first times go, Louis is so, so grateful that they’re taking their time, that they aren’t rushing. It feels like so much more than a quick shag, it is so much more, and Louis is grateful that it reflects in the way they’re treating each other now. If Harry can make him feel like this – and he Harry, apparently – on a bloody uncomfortable piano, he can only imagine how good they can make each other feel when they’ve gotten to know each other’s bodies better.

“Ten out of ten, would recommend as a pick up method,” Harry replies, drawing back from Louis to reveal his brilliant smile, the dimples dug deeply into his cheeks.

“Not sure it could ever work for anyone but you, babe,” Louis reminds him, reaching up to cup Harry’s face with his hand before pulling him down into a quick kiss. “Now cut the sweet and go sit down. Let me try to be sexy for you.”

“You already are,” Harry reminds him, giving a pointed look at his dick. “The sexiest man on earth, really.” Harry takes a step back until his legs knock into the bench behind him, and he sits down on it, immediately gripping his cock in his fist, his eyes fixed intently on Louis.

Louis jumps down from the piano, immediately rubbing at the soreness of his arse cheeks where the keys dug into his skin. “Have you seen Beckham?” Louis questions absentmindedly as he reaches for the lube on the piano keys next to him. “Afraid me and my marked up bum won’t be able to compete with that.”

He turns around then, giving Harry a full view of him naked from behind, putting everything from his muscled back to his full, perfectly curvy bum on display. He can’t help but smirk when he hears Harry moan, hopes that it’s at least partly due to him and not just because the other man is working himself over with his hand.

“Fucking hell, Lou,” Harry swears, a breath-y almost choked up quality to his word. “God, your fucking bum is incredible. Can’t wait ‘till I get to be inside of you. You’re so perfect, so smooth and so fucking fit, I can’t—“ Harry cuts himself off with another wanton moan as Louis pushes his first finger into himself. He’d gotten the packet of lube opened and coated his fingers generously while Harry was talking, and now he’s pushing it in slowly. It’s an awkward angle, and his wrist is already hurting slightly, but it’s worth everything judged by the sound of Harry’s ragged breath as he takes in his view of Louis in front of him, bent over the piano as he opens himself up.

“Feels good?” Harry asks, his voice gruff.

Louis hums in reply as he pushes in a second finger, his hum turning into a moan automatically. “Feels so good,” he replies, “Can’t wait for it to be your cock though.”

“You’ll get it,” Harry swears, “Just gotta get that perfect arse of yours ready first. God, babe, can you—can you spread your cheeks a bit more, please, baby, wanna see your pretty hole take your fingers. You’re taking them so well, can’t wait for you to take my cock. God, I just wanna keep looking at you forever.”

“Fuck, Harry,” Louis moans as he pushes in a second finger. Harry’s got him feeling completely overwhelmed, just… _god_. There’s something truly indescribable about sleeping with someone you like, someone who knows you that’s just infinitely better than one night stands. He’s so, so happy that he and Harry have waited until now, can’t believe how right it feels, how much he just wants Harry so, so badly.

He can’t wait to find out how it feels when it’s Harry prepping him either, or how it’ll feel like to prep Harry, to rim him, maybe. He can’t wait to figure out what it’s like actually having Harry inside him, or what it’ll feel like being inside Harry. Can’t wait for them to do it in a bed, in the bath, up against a wall, bend over the kitchen counter or maybe even out in Harry’s back garden. He wants it all, anything he can have, as long as it’s with Harry.

For now, though, he settles for pushing his bum further up, giving Harry a better view of what Louis is doing as he adds a third finger. The angle is awkward at best and nowhere near satisfying. It’s doing its job, though, loosening up Louis’ hole, which Louis knows is very much needed now that he’s seen the size of Harry’s cock. Still, though, he can’t wait until he gets to replace his finger with Harry’s dick. His fingers can’t reach in deep enough from this angle, can’t possibly hope to fill him up like Harry’s cock will. Not to mention the fact that Louis’ wrist is starting to hurt from the angle. He makes quick work of adding a fourth finger, moving it in and out sloppily, and then finally decides that that must be enough.

He pulls his fingers out to the soundtrack of Harry’s moans. It seems as though the view of Louis prepping himself is doing wonders for Harry’s arousal, and, really, it’s a bit of a confidence boost. Louis definitely isn’t complaining. He turns around then and is met with quite the sight, Harry sitting on the piano bench, legs spread wide and his hand fisted tightly around his cock.

“Come here,” Harry says, clouded eyes locked with Louis’. “God, Lou, look at what you do to me.”

Louis’ eyes flitter down to Harry’s hard cock as he makes his way over to him. It’s so beyond flattering to know that he affects Harry as deeply as Harry affects him. Suddenly he can’t wait to get his hands on Harry, his fingertips tingling just to touch Harry’s skin. Louis crosses the last bit of distance between them, hurrying to straddle Harry’s lap on the piano bench, their cocks rubbing against each other between them, and the moan that passes both of their lips is pressed into the other’s mouth as their lips meet in a kiss. Louis’ hands roam over Harry’s back, fists in his hair, cupping his cheek. He isn’t capable of stopping at any one place for too long, can’t seem to settle, needs to feel all of Harry all at once. His hips are moving against Harry’s in small circles, grinding down as he desperately seeks pleasure, loving the way Harry’s hands have roamed up under the jumper, touching against Louis’ bare back, and then down Louis’ back to his bum, cupping it and squeezing every now and then. When one of Harry’s fingers stray further, pushing into Louis’ wet and ready hole, Louis has to break away from their kiss to let out a half-moan half-whine. It feels so good. Just the fact that it’s Harry’s finger already makes it infinitely better than when he did it to himself. Not to mention the fact that Harry’s finger can reach much deeper, and his lips attach to Louis’ through, sucking on his Adam’s apple.  

“You’re so wet,” Harry breathes hotly against the skin of Louis’ neck. “You’re so wet and ready for me, baby. Fuck, so tight too. Can’t believe I get to be inside of you. You’re the best thing I’ve ever felt, the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Shit,” Louis says, feeling hot and overwhelmed and so _content_ all at once. “Why haven’t we done this earlier?” he breathes out before burying his head in Harry’s shoulder, grinding down harder against Harry’s cock. “How did we ever wait so long?”

Harry moans in reply, as though he’s telling Louis that it feels good for him too, so good. Not that Louis is really in doubt based on how hard Harry is beneath him.

“Guess we have a lot of time to make up for,” Harry says simply as he pulls his fingers out of Louis’ arse. “Are you ready? Can I—“

“Please,” Louis interrupts him, turning his head to kiss Harry hard. “Please fuck me.”

“Yeah,” Harry nods eagerly before letting out a small laugh. “God, Louis, you’ve no idea what you do to me.”

Louis grinds down his hips once more in reply. “Don’t I?” he asks, an eyebrow raised sassily. “Gonna let me ride you, Harry?”

“Please,” Harry says breathlessly, “Please ride me, Lou. Fuck, can’t think of anything hotter right now. Do you have the condom?”

“Right here,” Louis says, taking it from where he placed it on the bench next to Harry when he straddled him. He scoots back slightly, just enough to get enough space for him to access Harry’s cock properly. Louis opens the condom packet with the help of his teeth, his fingers too slippery with lube to be of much help. He takes a hold of Harry’s cock then, pumping it twice when he hears how Harry moans as soon as Louis’ hand touches his dick. He lets his thumb rub over the tip, spreading the pearly white precome that’s gathered there. He then rolls on the condom quickly, much, much more than ready to get Harry inside of him. He hurries to spread more lube on Harry’s cock, getting it ready.

It takes some manoeuvring to get them into a position where Harry’s cock aligns properly with Louis’ hole, but as soon as they’re there and Louis feels the blunt force of Harry’s cock pushing into him, something settles inside of him. This is what he’s been waiting for, this is the last part of their relationships that’s been left untried, such a huge part of a relationship for two sexually active beings as them. And, Louis can now admit, he’s been kind of worried. Maybe it’s been irrational, but there’s been this nagging fear of maybe, _maybe_ they wouldn’t be as compatible in bed as they were everywhere else. Just from what they’ve been through so far, and the way Harry’s panting beneath him as Louis sinks down, takes in more and more of Harry’s cock, Louis knows that those fears were entirely unfounded. They fit. God, they fit so well. They’re as compatible sexually as they are when just hanging out, as perfect for each other when naked as they’ve always been when not.

Harry fills him up perfectly the more Louis sinks down, his hands having gone to Louis’ hips, gripping them tightly. Louis’ own arms are looped around Harry’s neck, and his forehead is pressed against Harry’s, both of their eyes closed. He sinks down slowly, pausing twice to pull back up a bit, before he finally finds himself seated in Harry’s lap, his cock buried deep inside of him.

“Fuck,” Harry says, hands tightening on the flesh of Louis’ hips. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , Lou.”

Louis tips his head in order to catch Harry’s mouth as he gets used to the feeling of Harry filling him up. He pulls back his head slightly when he starts to lift his hips, breathing out small ‘ah-ah’s every time he sinks down on Harry’s cock again.

“Does it—“ Harry grunts, and then cuts himself off with a moan as Louis sinks down once more. “Is it good… for you?”

“So good,” Louis says, pressing his mouth against Harry’s temple. And it _is_ , it’s so, so good. It’s amazing. His cock is trapped between himself and Harry, rubbing against Harry’s abs every time he moves up and down. They’re so close, and it’s so, so hot. The jumper clings to his sweaty back, and a drop of sweat travels down the side of his face. He’s so overwhelmed. “So good, Harry. Feels—god, feels amazing.”

“Could do this forever, Lou,” Harry babbles back at him, his hands sliding up Louis’ back under the jumper, sliding along the wetness of Louis’ skin. “Just want to find a bed with you and never leave it. Want to kiss you everywhere, want to touch you everywhere. Want you any way I can have you.” He lifts his hips just was Louis had lifted his own hips, sliding up Harry’s cock, which means that Harry fucks up into him. Miraculously and by pure luck, the shift of Harry’s hips changes the direction of his cock slightly and he ends up hitting Louis’ prostate dead on.

Louis wails, embarrassedly so, there’s really no other word for it. His breath hitches and he throws his head back, as he shakes slightly. “Oh, god, _oh, god_ ,” he says, his thighs trembling so much he can hardly keep himself moving up and down on Harry’s cock.

“Good?” Harry asks, mouthing along Louis’ exposed neck. Like he doesn’t know it was good already, like he isn’t perfectly aware of what he just did. Louis can practically feel Harry’s self-satisfied smirk against his neck, knows full well that Harry knows he just hit Louis’ prostate dead on.

“You’re a brat,” Louis states after yet another deep moan, Harry having bucked up into him once more.

Harry laughs and kisses the corner of Louis’ temple. “I’m a sex god,” he says, pulling back slightly to meet Louis’ eyes with a wide smile.

“You’re an idiot,” Louis retaliates, clenching around Harry as he sinks down on Harry’s cock once more, making the other man moan shamelessly. Payback’s a bitch.

“Fuck,” Harry pants out, meeting Louis’ hips sloppily with small thrusts of his hips. Louis’ thighs are burning and trembling, getting tired. “I’m so close,” Harry says, “Fuck, Lou, are you? Are you close?”

“So close,” Louis babbles, his entire body trembling as Harry’s dick nudges against Louis’ prostate once more. “Just need…” Louis breathes heavily, “Just need—“

“Like this?” Harry questions, worming his hand in between them to take a hold of Louis’ cock. He tightens his fist around it and pumps as Louis whimpers out a moan.

“ _Yes_ ,” he says desperately. “Yes. Exactly like that.”

From then on it doesn’t take much more than a couple of tugs of his cock and a well aimed thrust hitting Louis’ prostate before Louis is coming, come shooting between them, marking his jumper and Harry’s chest equally.

In his ecstasy, Louis must have squeezed tightly around Harry, because the next thing Louis knows Harry bites into the jumper on Louis’ shoulder and comes with a grunt. There’s a part of Louis that can’t help but wish they’d been able to do this without a condom, that he could now feel Harry’s come shooting inside of him. Soon, he thinks. If they keep this up, that could easily be a reality soon.

Harry’s got his head buried turned against Louis’ neck as he comes down from his orgasm, panting slightly. Louis’ heart is still hammering at a speed more rapid than usual too, and he slumps against Harry’s form, forehead coming down to rest against Harry’s shoulder.

“You’re amazing,” Harry says into Louis’ neck, kissing over his pulse gently. “I mean, I always knew you’d be, but I think we’d waited so long I was kind of afraid I’d built up sex with you to be something it could never live up to, because, like, everything else with you has been so beyond great.”

“I know,” Louis ensures him, “I was kind of worried about that too.”

“But?” Harry prompts gently, and Louis can almost _hear_ him grinning.  

“But,” Louis says, pausing artfully, “Eh, I suppose you’re alright. I mean, it’s not the _worst_ sex I’ve ever had.”

“ _Heyyyy_ ,” Harry says, voice coming out mock-affronted. He grips Louis’ hips and grinds his hips against Louis’, his soft cock moving inside Louis. Louis lets out a moan that’s half pain, half pleasure, and he lifts his hips to allow Harry to slide out of him, before settling back into his lap.

“No,” Louis says then, picking up their conversation where they left off as he lifts his head to meet Harry’s eyes. He cups Harry’s cheek and leans in to kiss him chastely, their lips pressing gently against each other. It’s almost more intimate than anything else they’ve ever done. When he pulls back, he strokes his thumb underneath Harry’s eye. “No, babe, it’s honestly hundred per cent the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Harry’s whole face lights up with a smile at Louis’ both cheesy and honest statement. He turns his head to kiss Louis’ palm before replying: “For me too, Lou. God, for me too.”

“I hope you realise that we’re not gonna leave your house at all for the next long while. Not now that I know what you’re packing and that you know how to use it. I hope you stocked up your fridge.”

“We can always get Tesco’s home delivery,” Harry grins, moving his hands down to grip Louis’ bum once more.

His statement startles a laugh out of Louis, and before long the both of them are leaning against each other, shoulders shaking with laughter. It’s the best Louis has ever felt.

 

\--

 

The music video is dropped on a Thursday afternoon.

It – quite literally – blows up the entire Internet. Soon there’s not anyone within a five-mile radius of a working WIFI that doesn’t know that Harry Styles just released a music video where he snogged another man. It takes the selected media no time to upload the pre-written articles about Harry Styles’ shocking coming out. It takes people on Tumblr even less time realising that Harry’s romantic interest in the video is one and the same as in that infamous Instagram photo. In hindsight, it looks nothing like the fantastical series of coincidences their coming together was, and every bit like a masterfully crafted PR plan.   

When the video drops, Harry has whisked them off to Bali for a well-deserved week of relaxation. He posts a picture of two colourful drinks and captions it ‘Let’s make this day Something Great’. Louis pesters him for a full ten minutes to add emojis to the caption, and Harry finally relents enough to add the one with the two tiny men next to each other. After that, they both turn off their phones and crawl into bed, getting lost in each other, the outside world completely forgotten for a bit.

The next day the hotel concierge hands Harry a package that’s arrived for him, and upon opening it they’re met with the shiny cover of an actual physical copy of Harry’s newest album. Harry inspects it carefully, refusing to let Louis have a look at first. When Harry finally hands it over, Louis quickly discovers why. He takes in the front cover first, a beautiful black and white shot of Harry looking divine, but he’s already seen the multiple pictures from this shoot, so there isn’t much new there. There is, however, something new on the back of the CD. On the track list, beneath songs Louis has already heard like _If I Could fly, Happily_ and _Where Do Broken Hearts Go_ is a track Louis didn’t even know existed.

 **BONUS TRACK:**  
Something Great [Acoustic]  
feat. Louis Tomlinson

Louis head whips around, and he opens his mouth several times with the intention of saying something, only for nothing to come out.

Harry’s biting his lip, eyeing Louis warily. “You’re not mad, are you?” he asks, reaching out to tangle his fingers with Louis’.

“I’m surprised,” Louis says honestly, finally finding his voice. He squeezes Harry’s hand once. “I mean… what.”

“Articulate,” Harry teases, and Louis whacks him with the CD cover because, honestly, he deserves it. “It’s from the recording we did back when we were recording for the video. After Julian left, you know?”

“I remember,” Louis states simply, because he does. It doesn’t explain much, though.

“And it was just… God, love, it’s such a beautiful recording. I couldn’t bear the thought that no one else would get to hear it. I just… it just felt _so right_ putting it on the album,” Harry shrugs and smiles hopefully at Louis.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Louis asks. He’s not mad. Honestly, he’s kind of perfectly zen about it all. Still, though, it would have been nice with maybe a head’s up or something.

“Wanted it to be a surprise,” Harry replies, stepping closer and kissing Louis’ forehead.

“Well,” Louis shrugs, unable to keep his lips from quirking into a small smile. “Colour me surprised then.”

“But not mad?” Harry asks, running his thumb down Louis’ cheeks affectionately.

“Never mad,” Louis promises, stretching up to place a kiss on Harry’s lips.

“Good,” Harry says, smiling into the kiss. He wraps his arms around Louis’ shoulders and holds him tight. “Love you,” he says into Louis’ hair, voice slightly muffled. They’ve only been saying it to each other for a little over a week, but Louis thinks he’s probably been feeling it for almost as long as he’s known Harry. Sometimes everything just aligns, it seems. The stars, their hearts, you name it.

“Love you too, babe,” Louis ensures him. “And your album is going to be so loved, darling. The whole world’s gonna be at your feet.”

“At _our_ feet,” Harry corrects him, gently rocking them from side to side as they continue to embrace, knowing nothing about how right Harry’s statement will turn out to be.

 

Of course Harry’s album soars straight to number one on hit lists across the world, carried on the wave of his coming out and the response connected thereto. Upon graduating RADA, Louis is immediately offered several roles, and he takes care to pick the ones that are exactly right for him and his career. Just like he predicted, his involvement with Harry and Harry’s music video never has a negative impact on his career at all. None of Louis’ other projects will ever quite be able to measure up to the experience of working with Harry, though. It’s lucky, then, that Harry has no wish or need for anyone else to ever appear in his videos.

It becomes a thing. A known thing, a thing to be expected, that whenever Harry needs a love interest in his music videos, Louis will be there right along with him. By the end of Harry’s career, there are almost as many versions of Louis in Harry’s videos as there are singles he’s released. It’s pretty fitting, all things considered, since Louis is the inspiration to most of Harry’s songs, after all.

They record and release only one duet together besides _Something Great_. They write it together, record it in Harry’s home studio with Louis on the piano and Harry on guitar, singing about how they’ll never have to feel alone, how they’ll make it feel like home. They donate all the proceeds to charity, wanting to help those less fortunate than them. It also wins them a shared Grammy.

They fall in love over and over onscreen and off screen, in Harry’s songs and in the lyrics Louis helps him write. They fall in love with each other, with the family they create together, with the life they make.

(And they’re forever, forever grateful to the existence of Instagram.)

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for making it this far. I hope it was a pleasant read. I also hope you might be so kind to tell me what you thought?  
> Kudos and comments are what makes me want to keep doing this, broken writing bones or not.
> 
> Also come say hi to me on [tumblr](http://www.infinitelymint.tumblr.com), that's be neeeat.  
> Fic post [here](http://infinitelymint.tumblr.com/post/144013797735/fic-something-great-author-infinitelymint-words), if you reblog, I'll owe you a brownie with sea salt caramel.


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